


The Umbrella Academy: The Other 36

by AlibiRooms



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Everybody Lives, F/F, Fix-It, M/M, The Umbrella Academy (TV) Spoilers, Time Travel, post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlibiRooms/pseuds/AlibiRooms
Summary: The Hargreeves siblings have to live their lives over again, starting on the day Five left. The moon is whole again, and they've learned from their mistakes, but what happens when Five doesn't come back for them? What if, instead, he sent a message that brought back everything Klaus had been trying to forget?





	1. Prologue

The feeling that wasn’t pain came first. Less than happiness, more than a high. He thought of Ben, in those final moments. Pain came next, and that was worse. Going without it for any amount of time made it impossibly harder to readjust. It was bottomless, and angry, and sad. His hand grasped for his dog tags.

There was nothing there.

Klaus sat up with a gasp, hand around his throat. How did they get home? He didn’t remember. He _definitely _didn’t remember stripping down to his underwear. Boxers, no less. He hadn’t worn boxers in years.

He felt a little woozy, like he was hungover or…

Or time travel. Yeah, probably the time travel.

Wincing, he climbed out of bed and went to the window. He couldn’t _see _the moon, but everything looked normal and not on fire, so it must have still been up there. He looked down at the courtyard.

“Whaddaya think?” He asked. “Did we save the day or what?”

No answer. Klaus turned around, unused to the silence. The smile dropped away from his face.

Ben wasn’t there, but Klaus’ old full length mirror was.

“No,” he whispered, dropping to his knees and gripping the sides of the mirror. “_Five!_Take me back! I’d rather die!”

“Stoned already?” A voice asked. Klaus flinched.

“Ben?”

“Pogo’s gonna be pissed,” a very young Ben said smugly. He had a towel slung over his shoulder. There was still some baby fat on his cheeks.

“Ben…” He didn’t know where to start. Could a ghost have time traveled with them? Was…was Ben _alive_? “Ben, I think I’m a virgin again.”

Ben rolled his eyes heavenward and left. Klaus got to his feet and followed, perplexed.

“What’s going on? Engage with me. ” He looked around. “Where is everybody? Where’s Vanya?”

Ben stopped in the bathroom door, giving Klaus a concerned look.

“Did you even go to sleep last night?”

He shut the door in Klaus’ stunned face.

“Klaus,” someone called in a harsh whisper. Klaus turned dazedly to see a teenage Diego beckoning him down the hall. Toward Vanya’s room. “Get over here.”

Klaus went over there. Everyone, disgustingly young and hairless, was gathered around Vanya, who was sobbing into Allison’s hair. They hadn’t bothered to wake him, naturally. Five leaned against the wall, watching everyone with dark eyes. Klaus gravitated to him, a dark thought in the back of his head.

“Is Ben alive?”

Five glanced at him and nodded. “And you need to keep it that way. This time.”

“He doesn’t know what’s going on, does he?”

“Of course not,” Five shrugged. “Why would he?”

Klaus sat on Vanya’s desk. “I just thought – we went through so _much _together…”

“I don’t suppose his ghost would be here if he isn’t dead.”

“But – “ Klaus swallowed the lump in his throat. “Did any of it happen? Those agents, the moon…” _Vietnam_.

“I guess so. In a sense,” Five shook his head. “I don’t have much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Alison said, cradling Vanya’s head to her shoulder so she could glare properly. It was good to hear her voice again. “Where are we going?”

“And what day is it?” Luther asked. Klaus blinked. He looked so _small _without the freak muscles. “Why are we young again?”

Even Vanya looked up expectantly, sniffling.

“It’s the day I left.” Five put his hands in his pockets. “And it has to stay that way.”

“What does that mean?”

“The Commission will be looking for us. Big time. If I stay, they’ll be able to pinpoint this as the change in the timeline. It has to stay the same until I figure out how to stop them.”

“I’m not doing this over again –“

“We can take ‘em this time –“

“You’re not leaving us here,” Allison said loudly, an edge of hysteria creeping into her voice. “I have to go back. Claire – “

“There’s plenty of time for that,” Five said quickly. “So to speak. For now, stay under the radar. If anyone comes poking around, play dumb.”

He looked around at all of them with a strange expression. “I’ll be in touch.”

And he _blooped _out of the room.

There was a stunned silence. Klaus’ hand twitched toward his pocket before he remembered that his coat was gone, the cigarettes along with it. _This _body hadn’t started smoking yet. Among other things.

No one noticed when he straightened and walked out. He went to his room and shut the door. The buzzing in his head was getting stronger, it wasn’t time travel hangover. It was his powers. Like they used to be. Before the drugs.

He sat on the floor. _Don’t be afraid, _he thought over and over again. He was a grown man. Kind of. _The dead can’t hurt you._

“Dave?” he said out loud. It was barely a whisper. “Dave.”

The buzzing grew stronger, and Klaus’ hands started to shake. He shuffled to put his back to the wall as shapes started to swirl in the shadows of his room. An old woman, a man, a child. It went on as long has he could stand, and when he’d had enough he scrambled to his feet and threw open the window.

It only opened a few inches, for ‘security’ reasons, but the thin stream of air was cool. He wiped the tears from his cheeks.

It should have worked. He was sober, for Christ’s sake. If it didn’t work, if Dave wasn’t coming, then it meant he wasn’t out there. Klaus couldn’t think of a world where he hadn’t met Dave. Where they hadn’t….

“I can’t do this,” he whispered. No one answered, which he guessed he would have to get used to. Ben’s statue wasn’t in the courtyard anymore.

A bell rang somewhere downstairs, echoing through the halls in a horribly familiar way.

Mom. It must be time for breakfast.

His door opened after a quiet knock, and Diego stepped in. He was dressed all out in the uniform, tie and all. It made Klaus sick.

“You ready for this?”

Klaus pushed the window shut with a bang. “No.”


	2. Klaus Sees a Ghost

“And he still won’t water the plants or do the dishes. It would be different if we still had kids living at home, but he’s making all the mess by himself!”

“Sharon,” Klaus chided softly. “You’re a working woman now. Put your foot down! Be assertive!”

“It’s hard when you’ve been for someone so long.” She gave Klaus a sympathetic smile. “You’ll understand when you’re older, dear.”

“I’m still waiting for one of you fine ladies to propose,” he said, to bashful laughter from the other three.

“I’d snap you up in a heartbeat,” Andrea chuckled. “If you weren’t so damn skinny.”

“I’m still growing,” he said, crossing his legs and pulling a slip stitch. Not too many women would have chosen to take a knitting class taught by a nineteen year old, but the ones that did were _fun_. This week they were starting on sweaters, hopefully with enough time to finish one each before Christmas.

His was big, blue, and for Ben. The knitting was good for keeping his hands busy, and the minimal paycheck wasn’t too bad, either. It was amazing how far money could go when you weren’t using it for coke, he was starting to discover. What he enjoyed most, though, was the idle drama. Sharon’s husband was a total drag, Andrea was consistently fed up with the way her daughter was raising her kid. Edith’s nephew was “on weed”, but she rarely talked about it.

At half past two, Klaus put his needles down reluctantly.

“That’s it, ladies. Work on these in your free time so we can start on the ribbing next week.”

Goodbyes were slow going, and he received several cheek-pinches. “You better not be staying home tonight,” Andrea warned, looking him up and down. “Young thing like you ought to be going out to meet people.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently, like he always did. She didn’t look entirely convinced.

Going out on a Friday. What a concept. He had tried, tentatively, to go out (once he turned eighteen – again), but the same thing always happened. Too many people, too-bright lights. Flashbacks; sometimes of the war, sometimes of a dark mausoleum and a locked gate.

Karma stopped him in the lobby of the rec center, in an unfortunately literal sense. Her lined face and sharp red fingernails haunted his dreams.

“Klaus, honey,” she crooned, putting a hand on his shoulder. “How are you? Going out tonight?”

“I suppose I should,” he said. “Since you’ve been busy limbering up the population.”

“Oh,_my,_” she giggled, hand clamping down on his shoulder with surprising strength. She always smelled like perfume and sweat post-hot yoga. “I suppose I have. I’ll see you Tuesday?”

Klaus nodded. “Tuesday.” Like every other week.

She grinned at him in an entirely overbearing way, and he didn’t relax or breathe until she had left the building.

The city buzzed through its lunch rush, and no one gave Klaus a second glance. He was lucky to be the only one people ignored. Allison got it the worst, for some reason. He knew she hadn’t used her powers since their last mission over a year ago, and yet people seemed to want to be around her, talk to her, get her autograph.

He walked a little faster passing the mansion. It always felt like someone was watching him from inside, which he supposed they probably were. Vanya and Allison went to visit Pogo, and Diego went for Mom, but the rest of them didn’t see much reason to visit. It wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy feelings all around.

Diego was really into the healthy crap, but Eudora was always over at his place and she ate junk. A queen, honestly.

“Hey,” he said loudly, barging in. Diego snored loudly from the couch, a Statistics book laying across his stomach. Klaus looked at the television, and it erupted into static.

“Jesus!” Diego sat up, eyes wide. “Why?”

Klaus shut the TV off. “Don’t you have class soon?”

Diego looked at his phone and cursed. He started throwing everything in his backpack. “Can you tell Ben I’ll be by later tonight? I was supposed to go over there this morning to study.”

“You know I don’t deliver messages for free,” Klaus said, rummaging through the fridge. There was _nothing _of value. Quinoa? What the hell was that?

“Call it an IOU,” Diego snapped. “Lock up, okay?”

“Of course.”

Klaus waited for the front door to slam shut before wandering into the bathroom. A lone sock had been kicked under the sink. Good enough. He put it in his pocket and walked across the street.

Ben, thank God, was cooking.

“What is that?”

“Chicken,” he said dryly, brushing on some sort of marinade.

Well, that was just a personal attack. Ben knew very well Klaus had given up meat. “What’s in the oven?”

A slimy green tentacle slapped his hand away before he could look inside.

“Go to the grocery store yourself.”

“Too many options,” Klaus mumbled, rubbing his hand on his pants. “Diego said he’s coming by later. He slept in.”

“I figured. That’s not like him.”

Klaus found an apple in the fridge. “Yeah, I hear Botany is killer.”

“Hey, Botany _is _hard. He’s lucky he doesn’t have it at eight in the morning."

The plant that Ben had to grow for the class was still tiny, sitting in the window. Diego’s was twice as big by now, but Klaus knew better than to bring _that _up again.

He went to his room and shut the door, kicking his stray clothes under the bed and sitting on the floor. Checking his phone for messages only gave him a headache. One of the more frustrating consequences of time travel was the technology – iPhones in particular. Going from the 8 to the 3? Horrible. He would rather stare at Diego’s sock all day.

Vanya arrived late. He heard her talking to Ben out in the kitchen. The bastard probably offered her some of his chicken. There was no loyalty with that one.

“Hey,” she said, peeking her head in. “How was knitting?”

“Good. Practice?”

“It’s getting easier.”

He watched her, as he often did, for any sign she wasn’t telling the truth. She carried so much guilt and stress with her now, especially after quitting the pills last year (again). She’d chosen to take them while they lived at the mansion, because it was safer for everyone. Now that they were out, on their own, she wanted to try. Everyone was a little on edge about it. The moon had no idea it was, like, an inch away from total destruction at all times.

“Did you bring it?”

“Yes.” She sat and produced a dangly earring and a scrap of paper. “And you picked a sock?”

“He doesn’t have any personal possessions!”

She rolled her eyes. “You first this time?”

Klaus nodded, and reluctantly picked up the sock. He balled it up in hands and closed his eyes.

The psychic stuff had started after he left the Academy (again – and sober, this time). Maybe his family members were too familiar or something, but going out around crowds of people had started to overwhelm him with…something. He couldn’t read minds or anything like that, but something else was definitely at play.

Now, as he held the sock, he felt it. Impressions, he called them. Something less than an image and more than a sound.

“A pencil,” he said to Vanya. “Backpack. A…bathroom?”

A flash of a mirror, and a reflection. Klaus gasped, eyes flying open.

“I think this is Eudora’s sock.”

Vanya raised her eyebrows.

“Oh my God,” Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Diego’s _such _a liar. They’re totally screwing.”

The sock _did _look a little small. And no _wonder _Diego was so tired.

“Are you really surprised?” Vanya put the earring in his hand. “Try Allison.”

“Well he said they were just friends. Why don’t you care about this?”

She pushed her short hair behind her ear, shrugging. “It’s not my business.”

Klaus kind of disagreed, but he closed his fist around the earring and shut his eyes.

“Stage. Bright light. Paper…lines. She’s at a rehearsal.”

Vanya nodded. “They open next weekend. You’re getting faster!”

“And what’s this?” He picked up the paper. It was a receipt. From a liquor store. She looked excited by it.

“I just picked it up at practice. Maybe someone you don’t know will be harder.”

“Hm.” He put his hands on it and focused. It was harder to hone in on this one. He caught the vaguest sensation of something soft, like sheets. Vanya waited patiently while he chased the impressions.

“A pillow, a bottle of tequila.” Something that looked like a clarinet but with scary looking knobs and handles. A hand on a hip.

He dropped the paper.

“What else?”

“Sodomy.”

Her eyes bugged out of her head. “_What_?!”

“A blonde guy. Really pale. You know him?”

She thought hard about it. “Mike, maybe? From oboe? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Klaus sniffed. “Except the oboe. That was new.”

“Right.” She tossed the paper into her bag. “Wanna try me again?”

He nodded, though he didn’t expect much to happen. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the person sitting across from him. Without touch, all he got was the same sort of aura he’d seen a hundred times. Vanya’s was usually white or grey, depending on her mood. Sometimes he even got a flash of something that might have been her thoughts, but not today.

“Nothing.”

She held out her hand, as was their routine, and he took it. Much better. Sort of. He saw his own face, tight with concentration. He _hated _looking at himself, especially without facial hair. If memory served, he still had about five years to go on that one.

“You’re excited about something.”

“Kind of.”

He leaned against the bed and took a bite of the apple. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”

She looked down, blushing. “I kind of have a date tonight.”

“A _date_?”

“I don’t wanna jinx it, okay? Just please don’t…tell anyone.”

_Be careful_, he almost told her. _Maybe don’t end the world this time._

But her eyes were wide and scared. He had power over her. In this life, she cared what he thought. He couldn’t just say whatever and get away with it.

“Fine by me.”

She looked relieved. “My turn now?”

“Go for it.” He sat up and closed his eyes. They used to play music, but Vanya said that higher pitched sounds were harder to control. Now, Klaus just hummed and tried not to think about Mike from oboe. God, even _Vanya _was dating again. And Diego, apparently.

Klaus, it turned out, had no idea how to even approach the idea of dating. Drug-induced hook ups had been a lot easier, logistically speaking. Now, here, something held him back. And while he had a very good idea of what that something was, he tried not to think about it. Ever. That only brought pain and week-long bouts of what Ben called ‘dramatics’.

“Is that the _Friends _theme song?”

He switched tunes.

“I don’t know that one.”

“_Fortunate Son?_” He cracked open one eye.“You don’t know _Fortunate Son?_”

“Just hum one note, would you?”

“Fine. _Oooouuuuuooommm…_” Klaus hummed in one long, low note, feeling like a monk. After a few moments, the familiar sensation of the air around him moving and pulsating began. It was like an operatic vibrato made physical, wrapping around his body until the sound filling the room was much deeper and more resonant than his real voice.

His hair stood on end and he opened his eyes. The floor was about a foot underneath his crossed legs, and he was still going _up._

“Vanya.”

The moment he spoke, she gasped and he fell to the ground.

“Ow.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, rubbing her temples. “That hasn’t happened in a while.”

He rubbed his tailbone. “Lucky day.”

About an hour later, Vanya had only managed to lift him a few inches, though she did set him back down instead of dropping him. He put Allison’s earring in his ear as she packed up, observing her outfit shrewdly.

“Is that what you’re wearing on this _date_?”

She looked down at her beige sweater. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Dear _God_.” He dug through his closet and handed her a deep green shirt and leather jacket. She took them with a frown.

“Thanks.”

“Run along now,” he shooed her out of the room. “Don’t do anything I would do.”

When she was gone, bent down to pull the clothes out from under his bed and throw them into the hamper. Shadows and whispers played along the edges of his vision, as they usually did when he was alone. As he stood up with his arms full of clothes, he felt a more defined presence at his back.

“Please,” said a woman’s voice. “You have to help me!”

Klaus sighed. There was always one stronger than the rest, and it was sure to be annoying. He dropped the clothes and turned.

“You weren’t a therapist in life, by chance?”

“You have to help me.” The woman repeated. She looked about fifty, with long gray hair and a white nightgown.

“I can’t bring you back,” he told her preemptively, holding his arms out. “What’s so great about life, anyway?”

“That’s not what I want.” She drifted closer, sending chills up Klaus’ back. “I died in my sleep. No one will know for a few days, at least, and my dog is there alone.”

Klaus blinked. “Your _dog_? Wouldn’t you rather I, like, call your family?”

She shook her head. “I don’t have any family. Please, Kibbles is so scared.”

Well, it was _something _to do. Friday night, here he came.

“Where did you live?”

*************************

“This way!”

Klaus threw the ghost a withering glance. “She says left.”

Ben turned the steering wheel, cutting across a line of traffic dangerously. “And you can’t just call the police _why_?”

“She won’t tell me the address.”

Ben sighed.

“Since when does a little breaking and entering bother _you_?”

“I’m supposed to be _studying, _Klaus. I know you didn’t want to go to school, but it’s – “

“Okay, okay,” Klaus put his hands up to fend off the “education is the greatest weapon” speech. “Sorry. I’ll be quick.”

“Right turn here.”

Klaus passed along the message, then did a double take at a pair of people on the street. It almost looked like…

“What?” Ben asked, turning.

Klaus put his head back against the seat, pulling in a shuddering breath.

“Nothing. It was nothing.” There were lots of people in the city. Lots

“Here!” The ghost pointed up at an apartment complex.

“It’s here.”

Ben parked with an exaggerated sigh.

Klaus pulled his coat tight against the cold and went up to the door. One look at the intercom, and the door buzzed open for him.

“I’m in 543,” the ghost said, and drifted up toward the ceiling. That was just extra – Ghost-Ben had never floated anywhere.

Klaus took the stairs to avoid cameras and went to the third floor. Her door was locked, but he could sense her inside.

“Put your hand through the door,” he said into the crack. A moment later, a pale hand appeared. He grasped it, making her solid.

“Now unlock it.”

There was a click, and he opened the door. Sure enough, as soon as he stepped foot in the apartment, the icy tendrils of death crawled against his skin.

“Kibbles!” The ghost called, looking around morosely. Klaus joined in, and a second later there was a whimpering sound from under the couch. A very small, fluffy thing wriggled out from underneath and started yapping and nuzzling at Klaus’ leg.

He stared. No dog had ever willingly gone near him. “Kibbles, I take it?”

“Yes, that’s him,” the woman said in relief. The dog wagged a fluffy white tail.

“Where’s the body? Sorry, _your _body.”

The woman looked pale – even for a ghost. “The bedroom.”

She pointed toward a door. The feeling of death intensified as his hand touched the handle. He was expecting a regular old body – maybe some discoloration or a bad smell. The ghosts usually found him pretty quickly.

What he got was much, much worse. He picked the dog up and covered its eyes.

The body was handcuffed to the bed, arms stretched out like a crucifixion. The stomach had been torn open, guts spilling everywhere, black with congealed blood. And the head…the head had been shot from just below the chin, sending up a grotesque spray of blood, brains, and what looked like teeth.

“I might have left some things out.”

When he looked at the ghost again, her face was mangled and the white dress was soaked with blood.

“You tricked me!” He was sincerely offended. Since when could they do _that_?

He looked at the ghost, really looked. For a moment, she flickered back to how she was before. Something about her was suddenly familiar.

“Are you…I'm sorry, are you my _dentist_?”

What remained of her face twisted into what could have been a smile. “Denise Miller.” She drifted toward her body. “I hope you’ve been wearing your retainer.”

“Sure…every night,” he lied, shaking his head. “Who did this to you?”

“A woman, I think. She wore a mask. She wanted to know about your family.”

That sounded too familiar. Klaus swallowed.“What did they want to know?”

“She asked about your brother. The one who went missing.”

“And?”

“I told her I didn’t know anything, beyond which one of you doesn't floss. Eventually…eventually she killed me.”

Klaus hadn’t expected this to be his fault. “And why did you leave out this incredibly pertinent piece of information?”

“I needed you to take care of Kibbles! The police would have just send him back to the kill shelter.” She appeared right in his face, making him jump. “He doesn’t like dry food.”

Without another word, she disappeared.

“Lady?” Klaus called out, already forgetting her name. “Missus…Dentist?”

Kibbles squirmed and whimpered.

“Is he _vaccinated_?” He cried, exasperated, to the room. Thankfully, the body didn’t answer. He got to the stairwell before he had to stop and drag in deep, painful breaths. But he couldn't deal with the PTSD _just _yet. He had to shove it down and not think about it, and he had to do that _sober_.

Ben didn’t look happy.

“What the hell is this?”

Klaus held the dog out, hoping his voice wouldn’t shake. “Found him. Pretty cute, huh?”

“I’m _not _taking care of it.”

“No worries,” Klaus answered, thinking quickly. “Maybe Diego will take him.”

Klaus sent out a surreptitious text to the other siblings, telling them to be on their guard. Vanya and Alison were busy, but he at least needed to talk to Diego and Luther. And god-_damn _it was the screen small.

“You’re pretty traumatized, too, aren’t you, Kibbles?” He said as they crossed the street toward Diego’s. Kibbles wiggled in his grasp. “Is that why you like me?”

They were waiting for him inside. He set Kibbles on the floor and let him run around.

“Hello, brothers o’ mine.”

“Fuck, dude,” Diego pulled his feet onto the carpet like there was a rat. “Where’d you get that thing?”

“Did you hear from Five?” Luther asked, all business. Klaus told them about the murder while Kibbles sniffed at a pair of boots by the door. Luther brimmed with anticipation that bordered on straight up excitement.

“Is he back?”

“It has to be the Commission,” Diego said morosely, staring at the ceiling. “Masked murderer? Come on.”

“It could just be another Harold Jenkins. Some fan. He’s still locked up, right?”

Diego nodded at Luther. “For a while. It’s not him.”

“Our old _dentist, _though?” Luther frowned. “She came to our house maybe twice.”

“I’ll be grinding my teeth tonight,” Klaus said sadly. Where _had _that retainer ended up?

“Something must have changed,” Diego climbed to sit on the back of the couch. “Like Five said – something in the timeline.”

Klaus nodded. “We never had a dog before.”

“’We’ don’t have a dog,” Diego snapped.

Luther crossed his arms. “You already know what I think.”

Klaus and Diego glanced at each other.

_I’ll be in touch, _Five had said. That was five years ago. Luther was convinced he was never coming back. Diego couldn’t care less now that he had Eudora, and Klaus…

Mostly, he didn’t want to be tortured again. The sight of the dentist’s mangled body reminded him of how much fun it had been. If Five was planning on dropping in and saving the day again, well, Klaus wouldn’t mind too much.

Allison and Vanya, though, held firm that Five would come back. For wildly different reasons.

“Oh, come on,” Diego argued, responding to something Luther had suggested. Klaus wasn’t listening. “How are we supposed to keep track of every person we interact with? Call the girls, and tell them what’s going on. Klaus, maybe you should tell Ben.” 

“Why me?” Klaus watched Luther winding himself up for a fight. Talking about this always made them fight – which was why they _didn’t talk about it. _This day sucked.

Behind them, Kibbles was trying to get into the trash can.

“You two are the closest,” Diego started. “You – “

He stopped speaking abruptly as someone knocked on the door. Two hard raps.

They all looked at each other. None of their siblings would have knocked.

In a second, Diego had produced a set of knives from his pocket, and Luther moved behind the door. He gestured for Klaus to open it.

“_You’re _bulletproof,” he hissed, getting to his feet. Luther gestured again, more harshly.

_Play dumb_, Five had said. Klaus took a deep breath, but his hands still shook as he turned the handle.

“Sorry, Li,” he said loudly, pulling the door open. “We didn’t order any dim…”

He stopped, words turning to sludge in his throat.

There was a time when Klaus would have assumed he was hallucinating, or that the MDMA was messing with his dreams again. He certainly never _hoped _for it. But now… now Klaus hoped. Because there was _no _way what he was seeing was _real_. It was impossible.

Someone put a hand on his shoulder. Diego.

“Can we help you?” He asked the two people standing in the door.

“My name is Jasika,” said the girl, in a thickly accented voice. “This is Dave. Your brother sent us.”

********************

***************

**********

*****

*

_Five._

Five failures. That’s all he could give them. It wasn’t ideal, but neither was the piece of shit hotel he was hiding out in. He stared down at the blank sheet of paper and took a sip of coffee, hand shaking slightly from too much of it over the past twenty-four hours.

This was the sixth and final try. He couldn’t afford to mess it up again. Or let them mess it up for themselves. The briefcase only had so many more trips left in it.

“Too many variables,” he muttered, leaning over to scribble out an equation in his notebook. “Carry the one…”

The same answer as before. He sighed and sat back, swivel chair creaking dangerously.

They couldn’t do it on their own. That was the first try, obviously. But his being there had blown everything apart far too quickly. Who else?

China (4.53) and Canada (6.758) had been disastrous. Venezuela just needed to be left alone. Finland was busy inventing the pyramids. That left him with Kansas, California, India, Somalia, and Russia. He scribbled some more, filling up another two pages before reaching a decision.

The note. There would have to be a note. The note was key. But he had to make sure they didn’t try to work together. Disaster. Idiots. Fools.

Luther and Diego couldn’t lead. Too misguided. Allison was too mentally checked out to understand Five was being _reasonable _and _logical_. His arm still ached from where she’d thrown a paperweight at him. Vanya was the opposite. Too timid.

A leader. He crunched the numbers again, and again.

This time, he got a new answer. He checked it twice, raising his eyebrows. 8. An even number.

“That’ll work,” he muttered, scratching at the stubble on his chin. 

He turned back to the blank sheet at started to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posting this in honor of the season two renewal I'm so excited for. Here's the prologue and first chapter, with much more to come. Thanks for reading!


	3. Caveat

_The city breathing_

_The people churning_

_The conversating_

_The price is what?_

\- Echoes//The Rapture  
  


Klaus stood with his back to the wall, unable to do much in the way of thinking. He felt completely apart from his body, floating alone through a deep and very dark ocean. The pressure of it seemed to compress his brain.

“Tell us what happened,” Luther said, pacing.

Dave looked young – twenty? Twenty-five? It was difficult to tell. His hair was longer than Klaus had ever seen it; golden and curly. Heavy brow, sharp jaw. All as familiar as if Klaus had seen him yesterday, not five years ago. Or fifty. However you wanted to look at it.

“Well…” he said, seeming to think about where to start.

The response gave Klaus marginally more confidence in his sanity. A ghost or a hallucination wouldn’t be answering their questions, which cemented to him that this was _actually _happening. Dave was really on Diego’s couch right now. The plain jacket he wore fell against the lines and curves of his arms and chest in all the places Klaus most wanted to touch him. The skin under his eyes was light purple. He wanted to know how he'd gotten them. Had he not slept well? Had he slept at all? How long had he been pulled from his timeline?

Dave was probably saying all of it and more, but Klaus could only hear the familiar timbre of his voice, the way he took breaths at the end of each sentence. He didn’t exactly plan on ever hearing this voice ever again, so he was annoyed at the droning buzz coming from somewhere between his ears, drowning it out

“I guess it was a home invasion,” the girl said, when Dave was done. She had long dark hair and deep brown skin, and wore a similar set of plain clothes. “They killed my parents.”

Dave put a concerned hand on her back. Her voice wavered, but she seemed to steel herself. “I locked myself in the bathroom, and then a boy appeared. From nowhere. He had some sort of case, and used it to…to bring me to this time.”

“A briefcase?” Luther clarified. She nodded. “That’s Five, alright.”

Klaus felt Diego’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t snap himself out of it. The droning grew steadily louder.

“What year are you from?”

“1983,” she said.

“And you?”

Dave looked up, eyes going straight to Klaus. The lack of recognition there cemented something else. Realizing Dave was probably only looking because Klaus was staring at him like a maniac, he dropped his eyes. It was a monumental effort.

“1965.”

Something in Klaus’ throat seized, sending air out of his mouth and making a strange noise. A hundred conversations, whispered words in the night. So many things he realized he’d held very close as paragons of his reality, crumbling to dust. This was Hell. It must be. Even the apocalypse hadn’t been this hard. God said she didn’t like him that much – maybe she’d lied about sending him back, and it had all been an elaborate ruse to lead him to this moment. The most exquisite torture.

Diego cleared his throat. “What did Five say to you, exactly?”

“He said we were like you.” Dave’s voice was warm and rich. Just a hint of Kansas twang. It hurt. It hurt too much. “We were hoping you would tell us what that meant.”

The shadows were starting to whisper now, and Klaus realized too late what was happening. The buzz was louder, practically all he could hear. Everything else was very far away. The rushing of bullets running past his ears or into a chest. He struggled desperately for control, but it was slipping. Too much. Too much.

The door opened sort of violently, knocking him back into himself just enough to catch himself on the shoe rack before he toppled over. Allison stormed in, body language very similar to one of those bulls as soon as they let it out of the pen.

“Where is he? Is he back? Who the hell are these people?!”

“He’s not here, Allison,” Luther said, shrinking back like she was going to take a swing at him. Instead, she whirled around to glare at Klaus, eyes shining.

“_You _sent out the S.O.S.. Where’s Five?”

“Al,” Diego snapped. “Quit yelling.”

“_No!” _She cried. “After _all this time_, I am _not – _“

“_Al_,” Diego got to his feet. “What did I _fucking _tell you about the yelling?”

She seemed to come to her senses, but not soon enough. Everyone looked at Klaus, which made _Dave _look at Klaus, which kicked him right into the deepest trench of the ocean. He didn’t want Dave to see him like this. Not like this. He saw Allison’s face melt into confusion, and then worry, and then he couldn’t see her at all.

The ocean was warm, but not in a good way. Like sticking your hand into water the exact same temperature as your skin. It was almost like it wasn’t there, until it flooded into your lungs. Even if you couldn’t feel it, it drowned you.

Now he was looking down at Dave’s body, blood staining his fingertips. The roar of bullets and the sting of a shell casing on his arm. The water – or was it mud? – flooded into his nose and mouth. There was pain inside and out, then a sharp hit to his face.

“Klaus,” Dave said from behind sightless eyes, voice echoing like whale song. “Klaus, I’m here.”

_I know, _he wanted to sing back. _But you shouldn’t be._

“Klaus,” The voice said again. He opened his eyes, blinking away tears.

“Hey,” his brother said, softly. Diego’s bedroom, not a dark field. That was an improvement. Klaus lowered his hand where it clawed at his chest, at the spot the dog tags used to hang. “You with me?”

He nodded. Diego took him by the arm, in a way he probably thought was gentle.

“Here, sit.”

The edge of the mattress drooped under his weight. He was vaguely aware of his arms and legs shaking, but he couldn’t even begin to think how to stop them.

“It’s been a while,” Diego said. “Since you lost it like that.”

Not nearly long enough. Things had slowed down after they got out of the mansion and stopped going on missions. Dad always got really pissed when Klaus had a panic attack, but there was really no way around it. They got shot at fairly more often than most teenagers. Even in the inner city. And even though their lives had been relatively normal for the past year or so, there was plenty to set him off. Like a nightmare, or when he was around too many people. Or any time Ben turned on the news.

Diego slouched, and then straightened up, and then put his hands in his pockets. Klaus took this to mean he was about to say something of value, and his body was trying to reject it.

“You told me, once, about…” he cleared his throat. “You said that his name was Dave. Is that what set you off? Or was it Allison?”

Klaus wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to keep warm. How did he even say this without sounding completely insane? He took a deep breath that shook.

“It’s him.”

Diego shifted again, opened his mouth, and shut it. “That’s _the _Dave?”

“1965,” Klaus muttered. He was starting to feel sort of numb inside, though tears ran hot down his cheeks. “He hadn’t even deployed yet.”

“Wait…” Diego crouched in front of him, looking into his eyes searchingly. Klaus wanted more than anything to be held, but he wasn’t about to say that to Diego. He had never been the affectionate type. He'd have better luck asking Luther to paint his nails. “So that’s the _same _Dave that you…but he doesn’t know who you are?”

“That would be correct.”

“How – Why – ?” Diego let out a gust of air. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Our sweet little brother has a lot of explaining to do,” Klaus whispered. He tried to make it sound light, but his voice broke. Stupid nineteen year-old body.

Diego’s hand clapped onto his shoulder, too hard. “I know how it is after…after. Just sleep here.”

“No – “ he managed, but Diego waved him off.

“I’ll go to Eudora’s. I don’t want to leave her alone right now, with everything.”

Klaus didn’t exactly want to be left alone, either, but Diego wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and the weight was comforting.

“We’ll figure everything out, okay? Don’t worry.”

Klaus wanted to laugh at Diego’s poor attempt at being caring, but the shaking was finally slowing down and he wanted to close his eyes. His brain was going to leave him behind if he didn’t.

“Don’t tell them.”

Diego paused at the door, throwing him a questioning look.

“About D-Dave.”

“I won’t.”

Diego flipped the lights off on his way out, leaving Klaus in the semi-darkness. Klaus just had the presence of mind to hope Diego had washed his sheets before he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and buried his face in the pillow.

********************

He didn’t have any nightmares, but woke up just as abruptly as if he had. It was dark, he didn’t know where he was, and he was still on edge from the episode. A small noise on the other side of the bed sent his heart racing, but then something started snuffling and licking at his face. Something with horrible breath.

“Oh, God, Kibbles,” he gagged. Kibbles barked. He had a funny, hoarse bark. More like a cough. Klaus climbed out of the bed and felt around for the light switch. Kibbles started pawing at the door when he did, whining slightly. “No one else wanted to take you, huh? Left you with the invalid?”

He touched the handle, taking a deep breath. Sleep hadn’t made him feel any better about the world he now lived in. The ache in his chest had dulled a little, but that was all. Kibbles whined insistently, and he opened the door, creeping through the dark apartment.

Snoring from the couch tipped him off to Luther, who from the looks of it had passed out trying to keep watch. The panel on the stove read _4:00 _in green numbers. It was entirely too early.

Klaus stopped, looking at his brother. He’d never seen anyone sleep so _peacefully_. It kind of irked him. He kicked the coffee table, sending the half-eaten plates of food clattering around and wailing: “Luther! The ne’er-do-wells have come for me!”

Luther snored loudly, fingers twitching.

“Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

Kibbles scratched at the door with one paw, giving Klaus a curiously intelligent look. He didn’t have a leash or anything, but it was only a matter of time before Diego’s other shoe was ruined, so he wrapped the blanket tighter around his body and let him out.

It was freezing outside, and still dark. One car passed by. A few people milled about in the distance in various states of sobriety. Kibbles didn’t seem distracted, though. He just trotted over to the closest patch of dirt and did his business.

How was getting a dog from a ghost the _most _normal thing that had happened in the last day? And he was suspiciously well-trained. Klaus had never wanted a pet, but maybe that was just because he didn’t think it would be possible. Dogs either cowered from him or growled, baring sharp teeth that had always scared him. But this one seemed okay. 

While he waited, chewing his thumb, the back of Klaus’ neck prickled. He looked down either side of the dark street warily, but nothing stood out. The shadows were still and silent.

“Come on, Kibbles,” he said warily, snapping his fingers. “Lots of…dog thieves in the night.”

Kibbles ran over and stuck close by his side as they crossed the street. He was surprised to see flickering light under their apartment door. Ben was awake, sitting on the couch playing one of those video games. With an accuracy left over from a life of what surpassed abuse and was more like substance _ravaging_, Klaus’ eyes fell on Ben’s emergency study vodka.

“What’s this?” he asked, shutting the door softly. “Frankly, Benjamin, I’m offended at the smell.”

Ben sat forward, pressing buttons almost furiously. His eyes were red from lack of sleep and too much alcohol. Klaus hadn’t seen him like this since he’d nearly gotten a B in American History. He stopped smiling, sensing something was wrong.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Klaus’ heart sank. His brain protested the confrontation, looking for any way out.

“Tell you what?”

Ben wiped at his mouth. “Tell me _anything_. About…about Five. About _time travel. _I kept waiting for one of them to break and say it was all a joke, but…”

Klaus leaned against the door, crossing his arms. They never did wait on him for the important stuff. He was always one step behind, picking up the pieces.

“We tried to tell you a long time ago. You didn’t believe us then, either.”

“So I guess I’m the idiot, huh?” Ben tossed the controller to the floor. It bounced off the carpet harmlessly, but he really never acted like this. It was alarming. “People are trying to kill us, and I’m the last to know.”

“We don’t know that.” Klaus said. He didn’t like the hostility coming off Ben in waves – he was even feeling it psychically, a little. “And, besides, do you really think _I _decided anything? I’m Number Four in Dad’s eyes and number four _zillion _in Luther’s.”

His brother stood, grabbing the bottle in one swift movement. For a wild second, Klaus thought he might throw it. “Do you ever take things seriously?”

“Why so angry? I’m telling you, you’ll get wrinkles – “

“Did you have a funeral for me?”

Klaus snapped his mouth shut, grimacing. Ben looked away and tilted the bottle up. This was Allison’s doing. He could _feel _it.

“I just can’t believe _you _never told me,” Ben said. “That I fucking _died._”

“Ben…” Klaus bit the inside of his cheek. There wasn’t enough room in his head to do this _and _keep the very insistent ghost at the edge of his vision from bothering him.

“Whatever, man,” Ben laughed without humor. “I let that guy have your room tonight. You’ll have to take the couch.”

He went to his room and shut the door. Klaus called after him, guilt rising in the back of his throat. It would probably be better to wait for him to sober up, but Ben was his best friend, and his roommate, and – most importantly – the person who controlled the food. Klaus would starve to death before this fight ended.

They needed to talk it out, and yet…his eyes drifted over to his closed bedroom door. It was a stupid, masochistic thing to do, but what was Klaus if not self-destructive? He certainly wasn’t going to start making good decisions _now_.

Dave was asleep, of course. He faced the window, face slack, chest falling and rising steadily. His knees were drawn up and his hands fisted into the sheets – _Klaus’ _sheets – just under his chin. He was completely and utterly perfect. Even better than Klaus' memories.

It tore everything open all over again. Pain and loss that had been with him for so long he sometimes forgot it was there. A wound that was his constant companion, and Five had dumped a big bottle of antiseptic all over it. No, not antiseptic. Gasoline. He was bad with metaphors. Analogies were easier.

_Klaus is to a mentally healthy person as Taylor Swift is to good pop music._

_Klaus: mental health :: Taylor Swift: good music._

Mom would be proud - he'd paid attention in school. Despite the sharp pencil Diego loved poking into his back.

He just didn’t know who he _was _anymore. Losing Dave had ingrained itself as a personality trait – did it even make sense to mourn anymore? Did all this pain have a point? Who was he now, with Dave here and unharmed? The doorjamb dug into his back for several minutes before he could move again. He grabbed his knitting off the desk, watching curiously as a torn, folded up piece of paper fluttered to the ground. His name was on it and, unfortunately, he recognized the handwriting. Stomach churning, he padded into the living room and curled into a chair, setting the note on his lap. The edges were ragged, like it had been torn. The points of it felt nice against the pad of his thumb.

He was predictably and viscerally aware of the vodka, laying abandoned on the carpet. It may as well have been labeled _Drink Me. _Lewis Carroll, eat your heart out. There was maybe a sip left, and he _still _wanted it. How pathetic was that? It never got easier. There hadn’t been one day of the last five years he hadn’t thought about it.

He missed it, but he didn’t miss the person he used to be. The one who couldn’t be there for people. The one who forgot important things, or names, or the locations of retainers. But that didn’t seem to matter – if he so much as saw someone drinking a hard seltzer, he’d be thinking about it for hours afterward.

With a jolt, he realized Kibbles had hopped up onto the opposite chair and was watching him. Not just looking - _watching_. Klaus looked back at him, surprised. If he was high, he’d be _freaking out _at the look this dog was giving him.

“You’re right,” he said slowly. “If it was top shelf, I might argue… No, you’re right.”

He reached out with his foot to kick the bottle under the couch. Kibbles gnawed on his paw in an encouraging way, and Klaus unfolded the paper.

*******************

“Dad’s first journal?” Luther read over Diego’s shoulder. Vanya and Allison crowded in around him to get a good look at the letter. “We need that _again_?”

Diego sucked his teeth. “I don’t know…he wrote ‘first’ journal. That feels important.”

“The one Leonard had…” Vanya tapped her fingers on the counter. “It must not have been the first.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pretty sure the first entry was dated when we were about six or seven.”

“What, you think he kept a _separate _journal about us a babies?”

“A scrapbook, maybe,” Allison said sarcastically. Diego chuckled.

Klaus glanced up from his knitting, at Ben’s back. He’d come out of his room at exactly ten, looked at all of them, and started cooking breakfast without a word. Allison kept casting nervous looks at his back, so he figured she knew how bad she had messed up.

Dave looked better. Klaus couldn’t help but attribute that to the power of nice sheets and expensive pillows. Jasika spent the night at Vanya and Allison’s, and they seemed to be getting along. It was annoying. He’d much rather have been _there_, making cupcakes and being nice, than here, knitting in the dark.

“He knew we were special.” Vanya sat on the arm of Klaus’ chair. “He just didn’t know how. At first, anyway. I bet he did keep another journal.”

“Baby’s first summoning of the dead,” Klaus offered. Dave looked at him curiously. With a stab of pain, both literal and metaphorical, Klaus paid closer attention to his knitting, sucking on his thumb where he'd stabbed it. He'd been producing sleeve for almost five hours, and his hands and eyes stung.

The ghost hovered just in front of the window, wordlessly calling out to Klaus. Luther snatched a biscuit from the pile Ben was building, crumbs falling out of his mouth as he talked. Jasika craned her neck to look into the kitchen hungrily.

“Any ideas, Ben?” Luther asked, starting the coffeemaker.

“Not really, no,” he answered, throwing all of the pans into the sink. Sure, he would cook a five course meal for everyone else, even strangers. But when it came to leaving a pot of coffee out for Klaus, he couldn’t be bothered.

“Where are you going?” Vanya asked as he picked up his backpack.

“Library.”

Diego sat up. “I’ll come with you.”

“Just leave me alone today, all right guys? I’m not in the mood.”

“I really think we should stick tog – “

Ben shut the door, leaving a painful silence in his wake. Luther sighed, dropping his head to his hands.

“He can make tentacles shoot out of his chest,” Klaus said offhandedly. “And _this _is where he draws the line.”

He sidled up next to Luther and grabbed a pancake, noticing Jasika look at Dave with wide eyes. Dave shrugged at her, looking just as confused.

“What have you told them, exactly?” He asked in a lowered voice.

“The basics, I guess. Anything you’d find in the comic books.”

“But not Ben’s power?”

Luther huffed a laugh. “Honestly, time travel seemed easier to believe than that.”

“Fair point.”

“We told them a lot,” Allison said, brushing past them to make a plate. She had an annoying habit of jumping into a conversation when it was already over. Klaus prickled.

“You sure did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How exactly did you break the news, hm? Did you yell at him, too, or was it more creative? A limerick, perhaps?”

She glared at him. “He needed to know.”

“Well, I seem to be taking all the blame. How fun for me.”

“Good to see you’re making this about yourself,” she snapped, elbowing him out of her way.

“So.” Luther sat up and poured a cup of coffee, clearly not listening to their bickering. “We find the journal and recreate it from there. Maybe we’ll figure out what you two can do.”

“Yeah,” Diego turned from the window, some of the old rivalry cutting through. “That’s what’s bothering me. They’re _not _like us. They weren’t born in ’89.”

Klaus jerked his pancake away from a ghostly hand. “Adopted.”

“What?” Dave’s voice was sharp. Klaus looked up, regretting it right away. It _hurt _when Dave looked at him. “What did you say?”

He waved his pancake in the general direction of the couch, trying and failing to look away from deep blue eyes. “Nothing. I’m just willing to bet that you were both…adopted.”

Dave’s eyebrows drew together. Klaus felt seen in a way he hadn’t in a long, long time. He really hoped the bone-deep terror of it didn’t show on his face.

“I was,” Jasika whispered. Dave –_finally – _looked away from him, frowning at her.

Diego raised his eyebrows at Klaus. “How did you know that?”

The ghost tried to grab at his pancake again. He stepped to the side.

He had a good theory, he thought. It had come to him sometime before sunrise, when he was sane enough to stop thinking Dave’s name on a loop. “Five brought all of us back in time without a briefcase. How hard could it be with a _bunch _of briefcases and some babies?”

He got blank stares, which was as much as he expected.

“I mean,” he shifted his weight nervously. “There were forty-three of us. Why would Dad stop at seven?”

“The majority of people didn’t want to sell their kids,” Allison said. “What’s weird about that?”

“It never made sense to _me_,” Klaus shrugged. “He’s a billionaire. They tend to get what they want. The only way he _wouldn't _get someone's baby was if someone else took it first.”

“And we’ve never heard about other kids like us,” Vanya added, backing him up. “It should have at least made the news.”

“What are you saying?” Dave asked, staring at Klaus.

“The Commission,” Diego murmured, also staring. Klaus sighed in relief – Diego got it.

“I don’t understand,” Allison huffed. Luther would never admit it, but he was clearly just as confused. Probably the most out of anyone. Poor guy.

“They needed the apocalypse to stay on track, right? What if… what if Dad got ten kids? Or thirty? If there had been more…” He glanced at Vanya, face twisting with guilt. “Maybe it would have thrown things off balance.”

“Balance?” She asked weakly. “What kind of balance? Making sure I had the worst possible childhood?”

Diego hesitated, but Klaus didn’t see any point in being gentle about it.

“Yeah,” he said. “Basically. Out of every possible combination, guys, we are officially the _worst – “_

Without warning, the ghost reached for the pancake again. This time its hand passed directly through Klaus’ chest. He slammed into the fridge, reacting harshly to the sudden cold. Ghosts were such _dicks_. Touching them wasn’t fun, but being grabbed by surprised was even worse. Like biting into ice cream with sensitive teeth.

“Go _away,_” he hissed, rubbing his chest. Diego strode to the counter and braced his arms against it, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Is it a ghost?”

“No,” Klaus said obstinately, dropping the rest of the pancake to the floor. It would just taste like death, anyway.

No one was fooled.

“Don’t you think it could be another lead?” Luther asked slowly. “Like the dentist?”

Klaus considered lying again, but they were ganging up on him and now that he’d acknowledged the ghost it would never go away. He looked down in disgust at the skeletal, frail old man who looked very sad that Kibbles was attacking the pancake without eating it.

“Something tells me this one was _au natural._”

“Why don’t you _ask _it?”

“I don’t appreciate being used like some kind of supernatural telephone.”

Luther crossed his arms. “Klaus.”

“I’ll do the talking,” Diego bargained.

Klaus ground his teeth together. He didn’t want to. Not in front of Dave. There wasn’t a precedent for it, an inkling has to how he would react. Klaus’ powers had been basically non-existent in Vietnam.

“You might wanna cover her eyes,” he said, pointing to Jasika. This one was particularly unpleasant. Vanya held her hand up, covering Jasika’s wide eyes.

“Go ahead.”

He sighed and reached out for the ghost’s hand. Now they could all hear the whining, whispery voice.

“_So…hungry…_”

Jasika gasped, and Dave made a surprised sound. Klaus glanced over in spite of himself, trying to judge his reaction. He looked astonished. Klaus hadn’t ever seen him look like that. His mouth hung open adorably.

_No. You can’t think things like that, _he reminded himself, harshly. _Not anymore._

“Who are you?” Diego asked. The ghost straightened up, and seemed to realize everyone could see him. “How did you die?”

“_Hungry…”_

“Hi, hungry, I’m Kl – “

The ghost pulled away from him, floating through the counter toward the couch. _That _was different. They usually liked being touched. He followed it around, watching it lean into Dave’s face.

“Where did it go?” Diego looked around warily. “Why’d you stop?”

“He knows you,” Klaus said, stopping in front of Dave. It felt really odd to be speaking to him directly. “He’s talking to you.”

Vanya lowered her hand. “To Dave?”

“What’s he saying?” Jasika bit into a biscuit, buzzing with excitement.

“’I’m hungry’,” Klaus relayed, mimicking the wheezing. Luther made an impatient sound. Klaus stuck his pointer finger up. “_But_, and I’m inferring a second meaning, here…he’s hungry –“ He ignored the exasperated sighs, moving his finger to point at Dave’s chest. “Because of you.”

And the ghost was starting to get too handsy for Klaus’ taste, so he pulled it back from Dave’s face. Dave flinched back as the ghost reappeared so close. Jasika shrieked and clapped her hands to her mouth, cowering into Vanya's side.

“_Hungry…”_

“Oh, Dave,” Jasika cried, grabbing his arm. “It’s him!”

“Who?” Luther and Diego said in unison.

“Yes, Dave, who?” Klaus asked. “You know this bag of bones?”

“He’s…” Jasika looked at Klaus with frightful eyes.. “He’s _dead_?” 

“I sure hope so!” Klaus’ laugh a was a little too hysterical, even to his own ears.

“But we _just _saw him!”

“_So…hun – “_

Klaus let go, exasperated. Sometimes they got stuck, and only said the same thing, over and over. It was even more obnoxious because they were always super insistent, and he couldn’t figure out what they wanted. He realized that in staring at the ghost, it appeared to everyone else that he was just glaring at Dave.

“How do you know him?” Luther asked.

“He was on the train with us,” Dave said. His eyes followed Klaus as he backed out of the room. “In our car.”

“What train?”

“Your brother dropped us both at a train station in Connecticut with an address and tickets. The old man slept in our compartment all day, and when he woke up – “

“He just wanted food,” Jasika groaned, looking sick. “Why didn’t you just give him some money?”

“We only had enough to feed our_selves_,” Dave said, a hint of annoyance breaking through his calm demeanor. It must have been an ongoing argument. “I had to take care of you.”

“He’s _dead _because of us!”

While that turned into a whole thing, Klaus went to his room and shut his door, shaking his arm out to get the blood flowing again. He was shivering from the contact, and had to pull on a thick sweater before the trembling in his fingers would stop. Carefully, he unfolded the paper from his pocket. The one meant just for him.

_SHOW NO ONE:_

  1. _ Get to the journal before Diego_
  2. _ 7 – the roof_

The first point made sense. It was the second one that was giving him trouble. Seven, like the time? Seven, like Vanya? Or seven, like his seventh favorite studio album by blues-legend Nina Simone?

“Wild Is the Wind,” he said out loud. “Not because it was bad, but because it was a collage of re-recordings. Where’s the narrative, hm? The _voice_?”

When Five didn’t magically appear to agree with him, he sat on the windowsill and pushed up the window. Five wanted him to get the journal. Before Diego. That, he could do. Probably. He cast one last look at his bed before hopping out onto the fire escape.


	4. Getting High

_Going in the wind_

_is an eddy of the truth_

_and it's naked_

_its verbatim_

_and it's shaking_

_\- _Verbatim//Mother Mother

_Get the journal, the roof, seven, _he thought on a loop, trying to make sense of the words. He should have just given the note to someone else. Critical thinking wasn’t his strong point. Even walking through the crowded street was putting him on edge already, and the closer he got to the mansion the less confident he was in his plan.

Or lack of a plan.

He couldn’t exactly walk in, he was realizing. Vanya or Luther, maybe, but Klaus going there of his own free will would put Dad on his guard. And his office would be locked, of course.

Well, shit.

Klaus stopped catty corner to the front gate, letting people push past him as a camoflauge. The office was what, fourth floor? Unless the bottom windows were the basement. Then it would be the fifth. He really should know, shouldn’t he?

“The roof…”

His eyes went up. The attic windows were to the inside, facing the courtyard. He couldn’t see them from here, but they were slanted. It wouldn’t be too hard to climb in. And the house took up almost the entire block. There had to be one adjacent building that overhung.

He crossed the street, singing to himself to calm his sudden anxiety. Every window of the house was like a dark eye, swiveling to watch him make his way past.

“_If I should lose you, the leaves would wither and die…”_

On the far end of the block, he pushed into a shopping mall. An arcade, full of boutiques with ugly clothes and places to buy candy by the pound. He’d been there before, once or twice. It was more crowded than usual, though. Packed.

Panic flickered just behind every thought. Too many energies, swirling together into a mass of colors and lights that blinked and pulsed behind his eyelids. A child pushed past him, bare arm brushing past Klaus’ hand. He was bombarded with the taste of candy, the fear of getting caught with stolen suckers in his pocket.

He got to the elevators after what seemed like an eternity, and slipped into an empty one, bracing his arms against the doorway to stop the group of people trying to flood in.

“Sorry,” he said, winking. “Closed for maintenance.”

One of the women, arms full of shopping bags, looked irate. But it was 2009 and he was a man in a skirt, so they all averted their eyes and let the doors slide shut.

He left his finger on _door close_, examining the panel. This building was just as tall as the Academy, which meant there were six floors. But there were only buttons for four. There was a place for a key, though. A little door that probably swung open.

“_The birds in May-time,” _he murmured, touching his hands to the buttons without pressing. It was easy. Other people on other floors calling the elevator were like raindrops pinging against glass. He just…ignored them. The elevator took him up to four, then five, then six. “…_would sing a lonely refrain…”_

It looked like an administrative floor. Too quiet, too clean.

“_And I would wander around,” _He walked past offices, and one conference room. The people in there turned to stare at him in confusion. He waved, singing louder as he pushed open a door marked _stairs_. _“Hating the sound of rain!”_

It was windy and cold on the roof, cutting straight through his clothes. He walked to the edge, looking over at the Academy. There was significantly more space between the two rooftops than he had thought from the ground. It wouldn’t be a climb, it would be a _jump_.

_“No winter wind would blow…”_It was quiet here, too. He put one boot up on the concrete and pulled himself up, balancing carefully. Far, far below was the alley, where Dad kept the car. It was a long drop. “_A rose would bloom in snow.”_

There was maybe six feet between him and the other roof. He might be able to make it. He might not. Five had never been wrong before, technically speaking. He was the most confident little boy in the universe. Klaus just had to trust him.

Then, as the wind blew his ears and cheeks numb, something strange came over him. He inched his feet closer to the edge, looking straight down. The cold faded away, and his breath came faster and faster. As the final strains of the song filled his head, he stopped worrying. He would hype himself up to it and just jump. It would work out, or it wouldn’t.

It would all be okay.

“_And living would seem in vain!” _He yelled joyfully into the sky, throwing his arms up. “_If I lost y – _agh!”

Something yanked him, hard. He landed on his back, wind knocked completely out of his chest. 

“What the hell?!” Diego fumed, leaning over him. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

Klaus beamed up at the clouds, heart racing still.

“I haven’t felt anything like that in _years_,” he breathed. “That was almost like doing a line, I swear.”

Diego shook him roughly by the shoulders, yelling something else. His face was twisted in anger and fear. Klaus came back to himself, smile fading.

“What are you doing here?”

“I _said_,” Diego growled. “What the _fuck _were you about to do?”

“Did you follow me?”

At his sharp tone, Diego glanced away, guilt clear on his face. He helped Klaus to his feet, and when their hands touched Klaus could feel his terror. He really thought Klaus was about to kill himself _here _of all places. How depressing.

“I thought you might be upset about…things. When I saw your window open, I got worried.”

Klaus crossed his arms against the cold. “Just say it. You thought I’d go find a man on a street corner.”

Did Five account for this? Had Klaus already fucked it up? There was no way Diego would leave, now, so what was he supposed to do?

“Big changes can trigger a relapse. I just wanted to be sure – _Dude!”_

He pulled Klaus back again as he tried to climb back up on the ledge.

“I’m not jumping!” he cried. “Well, I am. But just to the other roof.”

Diego’s eyes narrowed. “You’re sneaking in?”

Klaus sighed sharply. “We have to get the journal somehow! What do you suggest? Asking politely?”

Diego blinked. “I just…you were gonna do this alone? Why?”

He peered over at the other rooftop, a line forming on his brow. Klaus shifted, antsy. He was supposed to get to it first, but if it had to get physical, he was at a definite disadvantage. Diego's nineteen year old body was a lot less bulky than the thirty year old one, but Klaus had always been weak.

“Deegs, I really think I should go alone.”

“You were gonna jump across?” Diego asked doubtfully, eyes suspicious. “That was your plan?”

Klaus nodded.

“Well, for starters, you’d never make the jump. And even if you did, you’d trip the alarm.”

“Alarm?”

“Well, yeah.” He pointed to one of the chimneys. “See it? They’re all over the roof.”

Klaus gasped. “There’s seven, isn’t there?”

“What? No. Three – there, and there.”

Hmm. So, Diego was clearly supposed to be here. This wasn't happening without him. That made Klaus feel a bit better - he hadn’t completely lost control of the situation.

“Well, what do we do?”

Diego’s eyes flitted across the rooftop as he calculated. Klaus thought ahead, wondering where the journal would be.

“Can you try your voodoo?” Diego asked suddenly, waving his fingers at his temple. “Disarm them?”

“I don’t know,” Klaus said, leaning over the ledge. He made Diego show him the alarms again, and reached his mind out. The black boxes swam into focus as he did, and he was surprised to feel that even though they were so far away, he could suspend the signal as easily as if he were touching them.

“I think I did it,” he said, hesitantly.

“Only one way to find out,” Diego said, climbing up. “You wait here.”

“No!” Klaus snapped. “I have to go with you!”

“Not a chance.” Diego stuck his tongue out and leapt, sailing across the open air and landing neatly on two feet. Like a cat. He crouched for a moment, waiting. 

“Okay,” he called over. “It wor – _Klaus!_”

Klaus landed next to him, on his stomach. His chin hit the brick, and he groaned.

“Did that feel good?”

“Told you I could do it.” Klaus got up. He would worry about injuries later. “Come on.”

Together, they jimmied open one of the attic windows and snuck inside, tiptoeing carefully to the stairs. A voice droned in the distance. Something about toad species.

“One of his records,” Diego whispered. “He’s eating.”

_Duh_, Klaus thought. Dad ate at the same times every day. He’d thought of that, at least.

“I’ll go to the office,” he said. “You try the library.”

Diego looked at him, suspicious again. Klaus fully expected him to argue, but he didn’t, for some reason.

"Okay."

Klaus put a hand on his shoulder.

“If I don’t see you again…I leave you the dog.”

“Like fuck you will.” Diego shoved his hand back. “Back in the attic in twenty.”

Klaus peeked carefully around corners as he made his way through the house. It was strange to be here again. He felt like a criminal, but that wasn’t exactly new. At least he was stealing for a good cause this time.

The hall leading to the office was quiet. It was locked, of course. But – lucky day – they were electric. Dad probably thought he was being slick. Klaus knew it was smart to keep his newer powers a secret. He let himself in and shut the door quietly, looking around. It was just like it had always been. Or always would be.

The pearl inlay box was still there, in a desk drawer. The journal, too, but Klaus left it. He checked the file cabinet. He tried _five _file cabinets. No journal.

“Okay,” he sighed, hands on hips. “Where would I hide my diary if I was a cranky old bastard with a God Complex?”

He turned slowly, looking for anything that might stand out. The portrait that hung behind the desk watched him coldly, as withholding and judgmental as its subject. On a hunch, he walked over to it. The frame was thick and bronze. He ran his fingers up the side, finding a hinge.

“Of course.”

He pressed, and the frame swung open and smacked him in the face. It didn’t feel good. Five was probably laughing, wherever he was.

There was a safe inside. Also electric. He touched it, rubbing his jaw with the other hand. Inside were two books and a single flower in a tall vase. One of the books was thick and black, the other was an exact copy of the other journal, just less worn and a little smaller. He took it, looking at the flower. It looked alive, which didn’t make much sense, locked up in here without sunlight or fresh air. It was also unlike any flower Klaus had ever seen. Even the color of it was strange and new. It almost had an aura around it, if he squinted.

"Grace!" Dad called, voice echoing down the hall.

It was too quiet. He realized with a shock that the voice on the tape had gone silent. He shut the safe, locked it, and tried to leave everything exactly how he’d found it. It was silent in the hall, but he could hear Mom nearby.

Before running back up to the attic, he sat in a stairwell and pulled out the journal. So he needed to find it first, but not keep it to himself. Otherwise Five wouldn’t have wanted everyone else to know about it. He flipped through the pages frantically. What was it? What did he need to see?

Just as he was really starting to panic, a small envelope fell from the book and thudded onto the stairs. He picked it up and opened it, fumbling through a series of photographs. They weren’t normal, either. The material they were printed on didn’t feel like paper. 

And what was on them...

How Five knew about this, he had no idea. But it changed everything.

_Why can’t anything be easy? _He thought bitterly, sliding the envelope into his waistband.

*******************

_“His name was Michael,” Dave said, smiling. “Michael Howard.”_

_They were wrapped in each other’s arms, in Klaus’ cot. They only dared to do this in the dead of night, when the rest of the platoon was out on watch or in town, partying. Dave’s body was hard and solid against him. No drug compared to the feeling._

_“An accident, I guess,” he went on, fingers stroking the small of Klaus’ back. “We were playing football. It was right after a pretty nasty tackle.... just a peck, but that’s when I knew.”_

_“You were how old?”_

_“Twelve.” He nudged Klaus’ nose with his. “You?”_

_“I’ve always known.”_

_“Come on. You never talk about yourself. It’s not fair.”_

_Klaus thought of the briefcase under the bed. Not just yet._

_“Well, my life hasn’t been quite as Norman Rockwell as yours.”_

_Dave chuckled. “It wasn’t that great. Michael moved away.”_

_"Shame,” he joked. But Dave went quiet, waiting. “I don’t remember my first kiss, okay? I don’t remember a lot of things.”_

_“Hey,” Dave said quietly, arms tightening. “I’ve got something you can remember.”_

_Klaus wrinkled his nose and turned his face away as Dave leaned in. “Your breath smells like that stuff.”_

_“’That stuff,’” Dave huffed, offended. “They don’t have Ovaltine where you’re from?”_

_“It’s _horrid_.”_

_Dave laughed and chased his lips._

_"It’s my favorite. Be nice.” _

Klaus got up and turned his chair away from the room, choosing to face the dark window instead of…other things.

“Jesus, this is dark,” Diego said, flipping through the journal. “You know he thought I drowned in the bathtub as a baby? And wrote a whole fucking entry about it before picking me up and checking my pulse? _That’s _how he found out I could hold my breath for so long.”

“I honestly wish I was more surprised about that,” Allison muttered, braiding Jasika’s hair. Klaus watched them in the reflection of the window. Jasika was a quiet one, but Dave was being quiet, too. It was unsettling. If they were really all cosmically related or whatever, they should both be just as insufferable as his other siblings. But thinking of Dave as his relative made him cringe.

“What do you think he’ll do?” Vanya asked again, pacing. “When he finds out you took it?”

“He’ll never notice,” Diego dismissed. “Klaus found it in a big safe. How often do you think he actually opens it?”

“You should have taken me,” Luther griped.

It was all too much noise. Klaus just wanted to go to sleep, clock out for a little while. But that space was compromised. Dave had slept there.

“And you, Luth,” Diego said, still reading. “You were the only one who didn’t get flu when we were seven, so he locked you in a room and infected you with all sorts of shit to see if you were immune.”

“Yeah. I remember.” The other chair groaned as he sat down. “I was quarantined for six months because I was so sick after that.”

“So I wasn’t the only one drugged. That’s a relief,” Vanya said. Klaus watched her reflection dig another fast food burger from its bag. They contemplated their shitty ass lives for a while. Klaus wondered when Ben would be back.

“I’ve never done anything…strange,” Jasika finally said. “Not like any of you. I really think I’m just normal.”

“Same here. I think I’d know.”

Klaus glanced over at Dave’s reflection, chewing his lip. Forget sickness or drowning – Klaus had been to _war _with Dave. If he had any powers, they would have shown up.

“Any sign of that ghost, Klaus?” Luther asked.

“No.”

“Oh. Your dog started acting funny. I thought maybe…”

“No, I think he’s hungry,” Jasika said quietly.

Klaus turned around in his chair. “He shouldn’t be. I fed him all of Ben’s chicken.”

“Great,” Allison said under her breath. “That’ll help his mood.”

“I’ll just take him out.”

He sat on a bench in the cold and watched Kibbles sniff around the grass patch under a street lamp. Breath left his nose in foggy clouds. He watched it disperse, pretending he was smoking a cigarette. He was craving again, which wasn't such a surprise. Diego was right about the relapse stuff, which meant he'd done research at some point.

That made Klaus feel guilty, because while he really hadn't been trying to kill himself, standing over the abyss had woken something up. A rush of adrenaline that left him wanting more.

Once an addict, always an addict.

“Hey.”

He looked. Jasika stood in the door, looking down at her hands. Klaus waited, but she just stood there with frightened eyes. Dave hadn’t come down with her.

“Hi,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. “Can – Can I help you?”

“Maybe.” She walked over. Wearing Vanya’s beige sweater, he noticed. Wasn’t she fresh out of the 80’s? He’d been holding out a vague hope that she would have _some _taste. Growing up with Vanya and Allison, he’d grown depressingly used to department store mannequin looks.

She sat next to him on the bench, pulling at her braid.

“You can see the dead.”

She didn’t phrase it as a question. He could see exactly where this was going.

“Sometimes.” He crossed his legs, wishing Kibbles would hurry up. Taxis whizzed by, sending up spray from the wet pavement. Jasika watched it go by, eyes wide. “How old are you? Twelve?”

“Sixteen,” she said loftily, clearly offended. Well, that wasn’t much better. Klaus had literally no experience talking to a living teenager that wasn’t his sibling. She turned to him, clearly gearing up to say something. He wasn’t ready.

“Come on,” he said, standing up. “I need to get dog food.”

Going to the nearby bodega was only ever possible for him late at night. The crush of people, the sounds of the squeaky carts being pushed around. It triggered something and made it impossible for him to focus. Tonight, though, only a few people milled through the aisles. Jasika held Kibbles in her arms while he grabbed everything they needed, encouraging her to pick out whatever she wanted.

“It’s different,” she said as they walked back to the apartment together. “The colors are brighter. It’s _expensive._”

“Tell me about it. Are you from a city?”

“Upstate New York.”

“You have an accent,” he said, perhaps too bluntly.

“We lived in India until I was ten. I was born there.”

He nodded. They rounded the corner. It was getting even colder. His hands were completely numb.

“You can find people, can’t you?” She asked hesitantly. “People that have died?”

“Figure that out by yourself, did you?”

She blushed. Kibbles’ tongue lolled with every step. “I might have asked your sister.”

He didn’t bother asking which one.

“Look – “

“Please.” She came to a resolute stop in front of their building door. He was horrified to see her eyes were wet. “I have to talk to my parents. I have to see them.”

She looked a lot like Vanya, with those puppy dog eyes. Allison had never quite nailed that look, but Jasika was doing a great job. It helped that she was holding an actual puppy. He started to shake his head, but the tears started welling and he knew he was done for.

“Okay,” he said, even though he already regretted it. “I can t_ry_.”

“Oh, _thank _you,” she cried, throwing one arm around his middle. He patted her pack tentatively.

“You went to the store? _You?” _Luther asked, a little too incredulous.

Dave looked at Jasika closely, frowning. It wasn’t _awesome _for Klaus’ image that he had walked up here with a crying teenager.

“People change. People grow,” he said defensively, unpacking the groceries. Maybe Ben would feel better when he saw that Klaus had bought more chicken. “Diego left?”

“Went to Eudora’s,” Allison said, from behind her computer. “I thought you’d put out an embargo on dairy.”

“Well, they didn’t have Ovalti – “ he stopped cold, staring at the half gallon of chocolate milk he’d grabbed. He hadn’t even noticed.

Allison made a face. “Have what?”

“Nothing.”

With hands that trembled, he shook out a bag of cheese sticks onto a pan and started the oven. Clean clothes. That’s what he needed. He went to his room and took a deep breath, going to the closet. Even after just one night, the energy in his room and changed just slightly. It was nothing, really, but he was so hyperaware that it felt huge.

When he heard a soft noise behind him, he thought it was a ghost, and ignored it. Then someone cleared their throat. He spun around, clutching a shirt to his bare chest and meeting wide blue eyes.

“We haven’t really met, I guess. I’m Dave.”

Klaus stared at the offered hand. They were gorgeous hands. A little less calloused, and paler. But still long and graceful. He didn’t take it, and after a long moment Dave pulled back.

“Um.” He stared at Klaus in a way that made the bruises across his jaw and ribs throb. They were strangers, Klaus fought to remember. “I know what she asked you.”

“You do?”

“She was a mess, that first day on the train. Watched her parents die, y’know? I know she was interested when your sister said you could…conjure people. I didn’t believe it, honestly. Not ‘till this morning.”

Conjure. The word sounded beautiful with Dave’s slight Kansas twang. The military had really watered it down.

“Look, man," Dave took a step closer, lowering his voice. Klaus flattened his back against the closet door, terrified Dave would touch him. "She’s just a kid. If her parents end up looking anything like that…_thing _from this morning, it would be really bad for her.”

Klaus thought of the dentist, and how bad some ghosts could really look. The ones who suffered before dying.

“Well, your concern is noted…_man. _But she can’t see them if I don’t let her.”

“Oh.” Dave’s eyes moved to his chest. “Right.”

Oh, this was _bad_.

“Well. Enjoy the room.” He inched around Dave, throat tight and clothes bunched tightly against him, like a shield. “The sheets are modal. Sateen weave. Keeps the split ends at bay."

Dave looked confused. “If this is your room, I can take the couch – “

“Don’t worry about it,” Klaus said quickly. “I’ll just – “

He turned on his heel and went to Ben’s room.

As the adrenaline from the conversation faded, he felt worse and worse. That hadn’t gone well. But what was ‘well’? He hardly knew.

He threw his old clothes into Ben’s hamper and put on sweats, climbing into Ben’s bed and pulling the duvet over his head. The others could stay as long as they wanted. He didn’t care. He was done being in charge of things today.

If Diego had found the photos, he would have told everyone already. There was no question. Unlike him, Diego was a good person.

Or_. _Or maybe he was jumping to conclusions. He’d only glanced at them, after all. They were currently shoved to the back of one of his dresser drawers, where they would hopefully stay for all time. Or until Five wanted to show his face and explain everything. It wasn’t for Klaus to figure out – he’d never even solved an Encyclopedia Brown puzzle.

He pulled his hands into his sleeves and pressed cold fingertips to his sides. The feeling made him shudder. He was always cold now, the absence of drugs and sweat and alcohol leaving him open and sensitive to the way the other side pulled at him constantly, draining him of heat. It was hard to sleep.

“Seriously?”

Klaus lifted his head from the damp pillow, blinking at Ben. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the absolute silence told him that everyone had either left or went to put their stupid, blonde heads on his expensive pillows.

“I have to talk to you,” he said, voice breaking.

Ben dropped his backpack and rubbed his eyes. “Klaus…”

“I need you to forget how mad you are and just listen. Please.”

He waited until Ben shut the lights back off and climbed in on the other side.

“Well, this is like old times,” he said dryly. Klaus didn’t get the feeling he meant it as a good thing. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Klaus just started talking. It was a relief, in a way, to tell Ben about this part of his past. It hurt, too. He told him everything, starting in Vietnam and ending with opening the door to Dave the day before. Ben was quiet, pulling the blankets up to his chin and listening.

“Diego knows,” he found himself saying. “Vanya might know, but we’ve never really talked about it.”

“This is fucked,” Ben whispered. “Even for us.”

Klaus agreed.

“What else? What else don’t I know?”

Klaus cast his brain around. “One time I took so much speed I blacked out and checked myself into rehab. I didn’t come to until I was leaving. They said I did a 5,000 piece puzzle.”

“You did drugs?” Ben said doubtfully. Klaus was suddenly able to smile.

“And Allison had a kid.”

“_What_?”

“Yeah,” Klaus said, smile fading. “I wouldn’t bring it up, though.”

“Holy shit.” Ben looked over. “With Luther?”

“Luther wishes.”

“You mean they weren’t…?”

“I don’t know all the gory details, then or now, but… after we lost you, we all drifted apart. It wasn’t like it is now.”

Allison had never accepted they couldn’t go back. At this point, they all agreed seemed pretty unlikely. Impossible, even. But Luther would always be waiting for her to accept it, and move forward. There was something sweet about that, Klaus thought. He understood it, at least.

“So you’re telling me,” Ben began, doubt dripping from every word. “That you went to Vietnam. For a _year_. And you fell in love with someone, and he _died_, and now he’s sleeping in your room? On top of everything else, I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Yes.”

Ben made a derisive noise. “And he doesn’t know who you are.”

“He does not.”

“So, I mean…what are you gonna do?”

“What can I do?”

He could feel Ben’s mind working hard.

“It doesn’t seem like…you’ve moved on, or anything. You never talked about girls _or _guys.”

Klaus shook his head. “No.”

“And you know him pretty well?”

“I…I don’t know. He’s younger. He never went to war.”

Ben groaned. “I can’t even keep this shit straight. Why don’t you just tell him? Get it out there in the open.”

Klaus hadn’t even thought about that. It was an interesting perspective, even if it was totally batshit insane. 

“I wish someone would have told me, if it helps.”

“We _tried – _“

“I know. But it would be easier with him. You know things, right? Things that are impossible for you to know.”

“I think so."

They sighed in unison.

“I love you, Benjamin.”

“Stop,” Ben said, rolling away as Klaus latched onto his shoulders.

“My brother.” He slapped a wet kiss to Ben’s forehead. “_Migliore amico._”

“Klaus!” Ben laughed, shoving him back before he could kiss him again. “Stop!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a whole lot if you've left kudos or comments!


	5. The Ghost and Mr. Chicken

I know I've felt like this before

But now I'm feeling it even more

Because it came from you

\- Dreams// The Cranberries

_The showers were odd, at first. All of them in the one room, together. Not more nudity than he was comfortable with, per se. Maybe it was just the body hair. People in the 70’s were _very _hairy. He tried to keep his eyes to himself in the steamy room. But seriously, even at thirty years of age, he didn’t have chest hair. What gave?_

_“Back to town tonight, Roofie?”_

_“Eh, I don’t know.”_

_Roofie scoffed. “Did you not see those skirts last week? Real catches, all of ‘em.”_

_“If you like your chicks with dicks, man.”_

_Klaus grimaced, wishing they would talk quieter so he could ignore them._

_"Fuck off.”_

_The sounds of hard slaps to wet skin and booming laughter echoed as they left the showers. Klaus relaxed a little and worked on the mud caked into his fingernails, jumping in surprise as a cold hand touched his side._

_“Sorry,” a man said. It was him. The blonde guy from the bus. Dave. He leaned past Klaus to steal his bar of soap and started his own showerhead up. Well, not ‘his’ soap, really. They shared everything here. “You’ll have to get used to the mud. It’s there to stay. So are Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumbass, I’m afraid.”_

_His hand lingered on Klaus’ skin for a moment too long to be purely unintentional. Klaus raised an eyebrow, looking around. They were alone. _

_“I just can’t believe his name is Roofie.”_

_“That’s not his name,” Dave said, lathering up. Klaus snuck a look at heavily muscled arms and back, biting his lip. “He got that after Charlie capped him off a roof.”_

_Whatever that meant. Klaus sighed._

_“I guess that’s better than the alternative.”_

_Dave turned and caught Klaus looking. He didn’t look mad. “What alternative?”_

_“Roofies,” Klaus repeated. Dave frowned. “You know. The drug.”_

_After an awkward beat of quiet, Dave seemed to let it slide. He smiled widely._

_“I’ve never heard of that one.” Blue eyes traveled up and down Klaus’ body once, very quickly. His skin burned, and he knew that this was what he’d been waiting for. Whatever it would be, even if it never went past glances and insinuations, was infinitely preferable to going back to the apocalypse. A welcome distraction._

_His water cut off, leaving him feeling like a wet rat and without an excuse to stay. Slowly, he leaned one shoulder against the cold wall and crossed his arms, making sure to cock his hip the way Andrew used to like. He’d been a shitheel, but he’d appreciated Klaus’ body more than any of the others._

_Dave didn’t say anything, but he cut his water off manually. Klaus doubted a two minute shower was doing anything for anyone – he used the five minutes allowed to the fullest, usually leaving with suds in his hair. But Dave looked so good it hardly mattered. His face went a little stony as he stared at Klaus. The element of danger was exciting, spurring him on as they stood there. _

_Then Dave chuckled and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it. _

_“Catch you at Mess.”_

Klaus woke up with a pit in his stomach and tears on his pillow. Sunlight filtered through the knit blanket, but he didn’t get up right away. It took a little while to collect the pieces of himself let loose by sleep.

Ben had left him a note on his side of the bed. They were taking Dave and Jasika to the park and making them run. Something from the journal. It didn’t matter.

Klaus vividly remembered the hours of physical exercise Dad forced on them, and he knew it didn’t have jack shit to do with developing their powers. It was about control, and punishment, and forced allegiance. Maybe he had even been delusional enough to think it was team-building.

He shivered violently as he stepped out of the shower, scrubbing the towel across his skin with unnecessary roughness to warm himself up. Showers _sucked _in the winter. But at least he was alone. Maybe he’d cry for a few hours, really wallow in it.

“Hey,” Vanya said lightly as he walked into his room. He jumped, and years of practice had him sliding into a mask of ease without even thinking about it.

“Oh, my God. You know I could have walked in here naked, right?”

Only the slightest narrowing of her eyes told him he’d done a bad job. She could see the fractures better than most.

“How long have you been here?”

“Not long. I have a book.” She held up a copy of _Twilight_. Klaus raised his eyebrows as he dug for clothes.

“You’re _reading _them, now? Going to the premiere of the movie wasn’t enough?”

It was kind of cool to live through the _Twilight_ shit again, as he only vaguely remembered it from the first time around. And he’d never seen the movies before. They were actually…not that bad. The melodrama of it all was highly entertaining. He might even make it to the theaters and see the second movie when it came out later that month. If they made it that far.

“I would have loved these as a kid,” she said wistfully, flipping through. The pages whispered.

He sat on the floor to pull on socks, feeling the weak sunlight on the back of his neck. It was earlier than he would have liked. That just meant there was more day to get through, and he wasn’t sure he was up for it.

“Jasika wants to have a séance,” he said sullenly, slumping down. A drawer handle wedged into his spine. He let it. “I think I’ll do it tonight.”

Vanya nodded thoughtfully. “She’s excited for it. After you two talked, she was happier.”

“Glad someone is.” He picked at his nails absent-mindedly, even though they were clean. Being responsible for someone’s happiness wasn’t really his jam. Even his own well-being was pretty low on the list of priorities. It just so happened that his family was better off when he wasn’t a drooling, high-as-a-kite weight around their ankles.

Mixing with ghosts, especially when it came to family members, was never very soul-affirming. It would be his fault when Jasika found that out.

Or maybe she wouldn’t have to. Maybe a little plotting was in order.

“You can talk to me,” Vanya said suddenly, softly, sliding to the floor. “I know something’s wrong. You’ve been quiet.”

“No I haven’t.”

She gave him a look. _I’m not an idiot, _it said. And she really wasn’t. More than could be said for the rest of them.

His mouth opened, and he almost spilled. He _wanted_ to. It was just…he didn’t want everyone to know. Not yet. He needed more time to… process. Or whatever the fuck else a therapist would say. Diego knew. If Vanya did, too, the scale would tip. That’s just how it was with their family. And it wasn’t her fault that he’d already broken down and told Ben, but he was scared.

“How did your date go? I forgot to ask.”

Something sad replaced the curiosity in her eyes, and she looked away, hugging her knees to her chest.

“It was fine.”

“Just fine? Are you gonna see them again?”

Short brown hair bobbed as she shook her head. “It was great. I just…don’t want them to get hurt because they’re close to me.”

He half-wished she would take the Diego route and just not give a fuck. Their lives were unpredictable, and maybe it was smarter to take happiness where they could. Vanya deserved it more than anyone.

“They’ll wait,” he said quietly, unwilling to disrupt the thick silence. “They’d be stupid not to.”

And Klaus didn’t know that – he didn’t know this person or what they were thinking. But Vanya smiled anyway.

“You’re being considerate. That used to be red flag.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I know. Wanna lay on the floor and not talk about it?”

She grabbed her book. “Sounds great. Shall I read aloud?”

He swiveled and put his head at her feet, stretching his legs on the carpet.

“Absolutely.”

**********

“It’s starting to feel like a haunted house,” Ben remarked as Klaus lit another candle. He’d placed them strategically around the living room – the bookshelf, the counter, and the coffee table pushed against the wall. It was Ben’s fault for having so many in the first place. He dropped another throw pillow to the carpet, making a circle.

“Do you think Diego will come?” He asked offhandedly. Ben shrugged. “You’re right. He won’t.”

The next one he lit was one of those big monster candles from Yankee, with three different scents layered inside. The layer it had burned to was red and smelled like cinnamon.

“Should we stop him?” Vanya asked as he pulled the chair she was sitting in back against the wall.

Ben sat forward on the couch, trying to meet Klaus’ eye. “What’s the plan here? Are you trying to scare her?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Klaus ran his fingers through his hair, turning on the spot. Checking everything. Too nervous to stand still because if he stopped making noise he would be able to hear the shower running, and then he would think about Dave in the shower and then he’d probably have to stab himself in the eye.

“Why?”

The bathroom door opened. It took everything in him to not turn and look. Dave’s quiet footsteps went down the hall. His bedroom door shut softly.

“I can’t tell you,” he said, a little quieter, looking out the window. “You’re both way too lawful good.”

“Now I’m scared,” Ben muttered.

He’d told them sundown. They should be here.

After an uneventful day at the park – if anyone in their right mind could call seeing a sweaty, flushed Dave_ uneventful_, that is – Klaus could sense something like anticipation. From everyone, not just the newcomers. He didn’t really use his powers like this. Ever. And for good reason. Everyone thought the ghosts were about to make some grand revelation, and they would be sorely disappointed.

“Allison was weird today,” Ben remarked, sofa groaning as he shifted his weight. “At the park.”

“Yeah…“ Vanya hesitated.

“I told him.” Klaus watched a little boy tug his parents down the street with both hands, earmuffs and scarf framing a red nose and cheeks. “About Claire.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “I guess – I think all of this has knocked something loose. Maybe she’s starting to accept things.”

“It’s only hard now because she waited so long.”

“Klaus.”

“What? We all had shit to deal with. She’s not special.”

“It’s not the same and you know it,” Vanya said, voice unusually clipped and harsh. There was probably more, and he definitely deserved it, but she fell quiet and he knew Dave was there.

“Are we starting soon?” He asked, notes of anxiety coloring his tone. Klaus’ nails dug into his palm.

“As soon as the others get here,” Ben said. Then, toward Klaus. “It’s getting smoky. The landlord’s gonna love us when we set off the alarm again.”

“If you’re referring to the incident of summer’s past,” Klaus grit out, “It was your fault for making me cook.”

“I’ve shown you how to use a stovetop a _thousand_ times.”

Klaus glared through the window, cringing at the stilted conversation his siblings were forcing on Dave. They were doing it all wrong, purposefully staying away from anything personal or at all related to the fact that he’d just been pulled out of his timeline completely. He wished they would just ask about the things he so desperately needed to know, because he certainly wasn’t going to do it.

“You didn’t feel any different?” Vanya asked. “My powers were really subtle at first.”

“Nothing,” Dave said. “I’m used to running, though. Every morning, I – “

He stopped suddenly, and Klaus waited impatiently for the rest of the sentence. Then he heard the voices in the hallway, and his stomach twisted. It was time.

“A lot of, uh, smells going on in here,” Luther observed astutely, hanging his coat. Klaus finally found it in him to turn around, eyes failing to land anywhere but on Dave. His hair was wet and curly, long limbs sticking out of Ben’s borrowed clothes. Thin ankles and sharp, angled wrists.

He was too busy smiling at Jasika to notice Klaus’ hungry stare, but Ben smirked knowingly.

“This is morbid,” Allison said, looking a little angry. She put a hand on Jasika’s shoulder. “Even for you.”

Jasika shrugged her off, so subtly it probably wasn’t even on purpose. Allison’s face did something weird and pained.

“Does everyone have to be here?” She asked.

Dave tensed. Klaus examined the hard line of his shoulders before realizing that Jasika was asking _him_. He was somehow an authority figure in this. Ew.

Allison gave him a serious little nod, like he better say yes or _else_.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked instead, noticing the nervous twitch to Jasika’s fingers. She nodded eagerly.

“Okay,” he said, sitting down on a pillow. “Luth, the lights?”

Luther flicked the switch, and Klaus waited while everyone got settled. In the candlelight, they all looked skeletal. The mood had shifted, and where he’d sensed a little bit of a mocking tone there was now a begrudging uneasiness. Allison and Vanya exchanged glances as they sat.

“Everyone join hands,” he instructed. Jasika sat directly across from Klaus in the circle, with Dave and Allison on either side. Luther and Vanya sat at Klaus’ sides, and Ben next to Dave. They all took each other’s hands. Luther and Allison looked at each other and looked away.

“Jasika.”

She looked at him, eyes determined. He took a deep breath and put up a firm wall between himself and his powers, just in case. “Think about your parents. Who they were, what they were like?”

She closed her eyes.

Klaus had only ever tried to summon a particular ghost twice. Once with Dad, once with Dave. But that had been a long time ago, before he’d really started to explore his powers. He didn’t remember exactly how he did it, other than calling out their name. Remembering them.

He also had to let down his guard to see them. The wall he always had up to keep the ghosts from pestering him, the wall he had up now. Learning to control that had made him less scared. He didn’t know anything about her parents, so there was no way this would work, anyway. The other ghosts would just distract him if he let them through.

Vanya squeezed his hand, inclining her head. Jasika stared at the floor, tears streaming down her face.

“Everyone close your eyes,” he said quietly. Dave gave him a pleading look, and then everyone but Klaus had their eyes shut. That was a mistake because, ridiculously, he felt alone. 

“Are they here?” She asked in a small voice. A hopeful voice. He hesitated.

“What were their names?”

“Perdi… Perdi and Rashtrapti Parekh.”

After she said their names, she took a deep, shuddering breath. The sound moved strangely through the air, and it sounded like she was right next to him instead of two feet away. It echoed. Klaus looked around, but no one else seemed to notice.

There was a disturbance just beyond the candlelight. Something was here, trying to break through. Klaus shut his eyes tightly, slamming the wall down as hard as he could. No, no, he wasn’t ready. It was _his _choice when they came through.

“Mom,” Jasika gasped. “She’s here!”

Klaus opened his eyes. Jasika looked around frantically, kept in place only by Dave and Allison. She was sobbing. Her breath came out in clouds of vapor. Klaus felt her psychic energy spiking through the room, much stronger than he was prepared for. She was calling out strongly enough that even though Klaus was fighting, something broke through.

"_No!_” he cried. The ghost wrapped around Jasika was cloudy and incorporeal. He didn’t know _who_ it was. “Get away from her!”

The ghost didn’t have a face, or even a discernable head, but he felt it look at him. He felt it become very, very angry. Despite Luther right next to him, and Vanya clutching his hand, irrational terror seized him.

“Get _away_,” he said again, trying to sound authoritative. He thought with relief that the ghost was maybe starting to fade.

“No,” Jasika cried. “No, stay! Don’t leave me again!”

Klaus looked around. There were more, now. The angry ghost was bringing others. He’d lost control. He was a kid again, locked in the mausoleum. He heard people saying his name, but they were so far away he couldn’t see them.

The shadows clawed at him, put their hands in his chest and breathed their sorrows down his throat. He didn’t understand. This shouldn’t be _possible _anymore – he was an _adult_, for Christ’s sake.

The ghost wrapped more tightly around Jasika, and her eyes went wide. When she started clawing at her throat, the room around him came back into sharp focus as everyone panicked.

“_Do something!” _Allison shrieked, cradling Jasika to her chest and looking around.

“Jasika!” Dave tried to pull her hands back. “Jasika!”

Klaus forced himself to his knees. He was scared for her, too, but only just. His own fear threatened his ability to even think.

_Leave her alone,_ he yelled, but not out loud. The ghost seemed to hear him, though. It swirled in angry violets and black smoke, tightening it’s grip. Tears streamed down Jasika’s face.

He didn’t know what came over him. Something new. He reached out with one hand and touched the ghost. It shrieked. A high pitched sound that seemed to only resound inside Klaus’ head. He twisted his fingers into the black mist, and some force within him unleashed itself.

Every candle blew out in the sudden burst. The ghost around Jasika, and all of the other, less angry ones, did the same, dissipating like smoke. In the extremely sudden, pitch black darkness, everyone froze. Luther stopped trying to pull Klaus back by his shoulders, and Jasika had stopped gasping for hair. He heard her loud breathing as they all looked around, waiting.

“What did you do?” Ben muttered. A long tentacle flicked the light switch, throwing their little scene into sharp relief. Klaus leaned toward Jasika, his fist still hanging in the air next to her face. He couldn’t move. Whatever had just happened had completely and totally drained him. Of everything.

“Get away from her,” Dave said roughly. Klaus blinked, surprised when Dave was looking directly at him. And reaching for Klaus' fist. To push it away, probably. It happened in slow motion. Dave was going to touch him, and he didn’t have a shred of defense left.

He expected to feel Dave’s feelings. Maybe his thoughts. Maybe a memory. Impressions.

He should have known Dave would be different.

A hand closed around Klaus’ wrist, and everything went white.

*********

It was all in his head, his ears, his throat. Thick and gelatinous. Time. Or just atoms, shifting and accommodating change. Life. Death. Tears.

He took a breath.

“What…?” Someone asked. Klaus frowned, reaching for his blankets and finding them. “What is this?”

“It’s naptime,” Klaus told him, settling the blankets around his chin. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

The person in bed with him shifted, pulled away. Klaus cracked one eye open, glaring at Dave. This was a dream, not a memory. He usually just let them play out, but this felt different, somehow. Dave didn’t look like his Dave. He was too young.

“How did we get here?” He asked. Klaus smiled at the sensation of fingers trailing down his waist.

“You tell me.”

Dave frowned. “I don’t remember…”

They were in Klaus’ room. The sun sent beams of light onto Dave’s hair, making it glitter and glow. He didn’t know if they were naked, but it didn’t really matter. This was Dave.

They’d never had this, exactly. A lazy morning in bed. Not in Vietnam. But if this was what his subconscious wanted to throw at him, well. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Does it matter?” Klaus brought his hand up to Dave’s cheek.

“This feels familiar.”

Klaus smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?”

They just looked at each other for a while. There was maybe, possibly, something Klaus had forgotten. But that was hard to think about when this moment was so perfect.

“Why did you go?” He whispered. This version of Dave couldn’t give him real answers, of course, but he still wanted to ask. “Why didn’t you just stay in Kansas?”

Dave made a strange face, like he was trying to remember something distant.

“Your brother. He said I’d die if I went to war.”

Klaus brought his other hand up, cradling Dave’s face. Horrible, horrible relief. Maybe it hadn’t been Klaus’ fault.

“I didn’t understand how he could know that, but…” he leaned into Klaus’ touch. “But there was nothing there for me.”

Klaus chuckled at the use of those words. When that was exactly how Klaus justified not going back. Back to his family, back to the apocalypse.

“And then I saw her, and how scared she was…” Warm arms pulled Klaus closer. “Then I saw you…”

“You did?” Klaus asked in wonder. But Dave was pulling away again. Klaus’ grip wasn’t strong enough to hold him.

“Wait. This is wrong. The… the séance. You did something to her.”

Tears welled at the anger in Dave’s eyes.

“No,” Klaus whispered. “No, I tried to save her.”

“Where are we?” Dave sat up, and cold air flooded in around Klaus. “Take me back. Take us back! This isn’t real!”

“It’s real,” Klaus tried to convince him, convince himself. “I love you.”

Dave’s eyes were wide. “Take me back!”

“I love you,” he repeated, snaking an arm around Dave’s waist. He was pathetic, and needy, and taking more than he ever deserved. He could sleep for so long. “Please don’t leave.”

“No.” Dave’s voice shook. “I-I’m sorry. This isn’t real.”

Klaus let him go, heart empty. Dave threw the sheets off, and the space around them rippled. When his feet touched the floor, it shattered. Everything went black, including Dave, and Klaus was falling through the empty space.

He sat bolt upright, looking into Vanya’s wide eyes. 

“Klaus! Oh my God!” She threw her arms around him. Bewildered, he looked at Luther, then Allison. They looked just as confused. Dave was standing by the door, breathing hard. Ben looked pale. Jasika still had tears on her face.

“That’s never happened before.” Vanya said, holding his shoulders and examining him carefully.

“Um. What happened, exactly?”

“You passed out.” She pressed a hand to his forehead. “Both of you.”

“I had a dream…” He turned his head, looking to Dave in question.

Dave clenched his jaw and looked away. He was ashamed, Klaus thought. Whatever it was, then, had really happened. Dave had _touched _him. _Seen_ him. His stomach churned and his arms shook with cold, but he couldn’t be here anymore.

“Wait!” Vanya called after him. He sprinted down the steps, as fast as his legs would carry him. People on the street turned to stare. Some cried out in surprise as he pushed past them. More than one taxi honked and swerved as he ran across the street.

He jogged the last few yards to Eudora’s front door, gasping for air and hardly able to stand up straight. She didn’t answer for several long seconds. He tapped his knuckles rhythmically against the wall. Maybe they weren’t here. Maybe they were out doing something normal and fun.

“Hello?”

“Dora,” he tried to sound cheerful, resting his head against the cold wall. “Is my brother there?”

“Klaus,” she said, like she wasn’t all that surprised. “Come up.”

There was a mechanical noise, and the door unlocked. He took the stairs, still trying to catch his breath as he knocked. Diego opened the door with Eudora peering over his shoulder curiously.

“What happened?” He frowned at Klaus’ bare feet. “Everyone okay?”

“I’m relapsing,” Klaus blurted. “I was hoping you'd join me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who was gonna tell me I was typing Adora not Eudora lmao


	6. Man in the Alley

_One fist of iron_

_the other of steel_

_if the right one don't a-get you_

_then the left one will_

\- Sixteen Tons//Tennessee Earnie Ford

“This is going to hurt,” the girl said. Klaus reached out and grabbed Eudora’s hand. She squeezed it supportively.

“Wait,” Diego swallowed. “You’re sticking _that_ through his _nose_?”

“Well, yeah?” She looked between Klaus and the needle in her hand. “That’s the definition of _pierce_.”

Klaus laughed. “I like you. What’s your name again?”

“Janice.”

“Oh, like the Muppet,” he said. Janice’s ringed eyebrow shot up. “Go ahead. Don’t be gentle.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Diego muttered. Klaus heard the door to the little operating room open and close.

“He’ll be fine,” Eudora said dubiously, like Klaus was at all bothered by his brother’s squeamishness. At least he was still conscious.

Janice leaned down, pinching the bridge of Klaus’ nose with one hand and positioning the needle with the other. He felt her intense focus through the contact, and he could also feel that she was a little high. He relaxed, glad she was the trustworthy sort.

Waiting on her to do her thing, he focused on a _Grateful Dead _poster hanging over the door. Totally gauche and regrettably unaware of how much the band it advertised actually sucked. The pain was only a sharp, quick sting in the piece of flesh between his nostrils. The poster blurred as automatic tears flooded his eyes. He clung to the sensation, focusing as hard as he could. It faded much quicker than he'd hoped. Maybe he should have chosen something more painful. Didn’t some people get piercings through the dickhead? Eudora probably wouldn’t hold his hand through that one.

“All done."

Eudora bent over to look while Janice retrieved a little mirror. “It’s cool!” She said, sounding surprised. He didn’t blame her for doubting – septum rings wouldn’t get big for a few more years. Sniffing and sitting up, he felt at the cold steel in his face. His reflection winced at the pain that produced, but he didn’t look any better or worse. Janice lectured him about caring for it as they went back into the main shop.

“It looks good, doesn’t it?” Eudora asked, digging her elbow into Diego’s chest. He erased his small, semi-repulsed frown and nodded. “This is fun. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo.”

Diego looked up at the wall of tattoo art, blushing furiously. Klaus rolled his eyes and paid over the counter, leaning to watch Janice put the money in the till. “Am I supposed to tip you?”

“No,” she laughed. She handed him a receipt, leaning onto her elbows toward him. “I’ve never been compared to a Muppet before.”

Klaus grinned. “What I know about Muppets would make your toes curl. When’s your shift ov – ?“

“Oh, no you don’t,” Diego growled, pushing him toward the exit. “Go.”

Klaus winked and waved to the smiling Janice, then shoved his way past the door and into the night, shrugging Diego off. The experience had been distracting - and expensive - but short-lived. The junkie in him needed another hit.

“I can’t believe that almost worked,” Eudora said behind him.

“Yeah," Diego grunted. "Who knew chicks with eyebrow piercings liked puppets?”

“Muppets,” Klaus corrected, looking around. The freezing air made his skin crawl. “A puppet doesn’t know it’s a puppet. That’s the difference.”

“Do you feel any better?” Eudora sounded concerned. “When you said relapse, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“I’m exactly the same.” Klaus looked at Diego. He couldn’t talk about what happened with Eudora there. Even if she wasn't, putting everything to words would be really hard. Diego nodded in understanding.

“Well, let’s see.” Eudora took his arm and led them down the street. “We can go to that diner you guys like. Or we could go to a movie. Or…” she trailed off, trying to sound natural. “We could _talk_ about it.”

Klaus scoffed. For all she knew, he was just being dramatic about a fight with Ben, or a bad date. Not that far off, unfortunately. Her image of him didn’t include needles or blow or weekly trips in the ambulance. She didn’t know that, in the past-future, he had always been disappointed when the vicious pumps of electricity managed to force his heart to beat. The EMT’s had gotten real sick of seeing him, but for some reason never let him die.

“Your family, I swear…” she sighed, reaching back to take Diego’s hand so they walked together. “Diner it is.”

They found a booth by a window. It was crowded, which put Klaus on edge. He ordered coffee and a bagel, contorting himself so one foot was up on the plastic seat and he could put his chin on his knee. The thing in his nose shifted every time he wrinkled his face, which of course meant he couldn’t stop sniffing.

“Okay,” Eudora said, after a prolonged silence. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” Her reflection gave Diego a pointed look and left. 

“She wants us to talk about it,” Klaus observed a few seconds later. “Hang on, I’ll make myself cry so it looks like you really got through to me.”

“How did the séance go?” Diego leaned forward, dropping his voice.

“It was a shitshow. You had to be there.” He turned away from the window, snatching the mug from the waitress’ hand and forcing down a burning gulp.

“I wanted to be.” Diego wrapped a hand around his own mug and didn’t drink from it. “I can’t leave her alone. You get that, right?”

Klaus nodded, picking at the cracked linoleum tabletop. None of them disliked Eudora, or thought Diego was doing anything wrong. Except maybe Allison, who thought every day in this life was wrong. After what happened before, it made perfect sense he would be extra protective.

“I lost control," Klaus started. "One of the ghosts attacked Jasika.”

“_Attacked?”_

“It was…_choking_ her. I got rid of it...somehow. Not sure what I did, but it worked. I think – “ he swallowed. “I think Dave thought _I _was choking her, because he got mad, and when he touched me…”

Diego leaned in further, eyes wide. “What?”

Klaus explained it as best he could, leaving out the part about them being maybe, sort-of naked. “So, basically, he thinks I’m a psycho freak who’s totally in love with him. We’ve known each other for two days, as far as he’s concerned, and talked to each other maybe once.” Klaus dragged his fingers through his knotted hair. “I can’t stand the way he looked at me. I wanna die.”

“Hey,” Diego said harshly. Klaus looked up, immediately registering Diego’s patented Real Talk frown. “Don’t say that. You…”

He sighed his discomfort, shifting on the other side of the booth and staring into his coffee. “You’re one of the strangest people that has ever existed. If I hadn’t known you my entire life, I would be fucking terrified of you. You’re a mess, I don’t understand half of the things you say, and if anyone else _ever_ tried to tell me I’d look good in a skirt, I’d clock ‘em.”

“Wow,” Klaus whispered, sarcastic tears welling in his eyes. “Thanks.”

Diego looked up at the ceiling, crossing his arms. “My point is, if Dave ever saw past all of that and loved you, then it was probably fate. Or some shit like that. Just…make him do it again.”

Diego was rarely this optimistic. It just hurt all the more, coming from him. “I – “

He looked down in shock as Diego covered his hand with his own, squeezing lightly. “It’s always been him. You don’t bring it up, but I know, okay? You just have to explain it to him. If he’s one of us, then he’ll need to get used to the weird.”

Klaus stared at their hands. Diego was…happy. Disgusting, syrup-thick happy. Eudora was good for him, but his love for her blinded him to reality. Klaus pulled away from the contact, shuddering. “Be less sincere. You’re freaking me out.”

Diego snorted, following Klaus back into normal, repressed brotherhood with ease. “Stop being an idiot, or I’ll get Luther involved.”

The thought of Big Luth trying to _help_ startled a laugh out of him. “I’ll…I’ll try.”

Eudora slid back into the booth, glancing between them with a satisfied little nod. “All better?”

***************

It was not all better. He lied and told them he was going straight home after an hour of cold coffee and disappointing bagel. Instead, he meandered through the thinning crowds in borrowed shoes, shivering and ignoring the buzzing of his phone. They were either worried about him or very, very angry. He should go back and explain that he definitely _hadn’t_ violently attacked a teenager. That was important. Things just needed to settle before he was able to handle it.

Dave had touched him. Not in real life, but whatever space Klaus had taken them to, in his head. His hands had burned up and down his skin. He’d pulled Klaus closer before he’d pushed him away.

_Then I saw you._

He wiped his eyes, turning onto a side street to avoid curious glances. Skinny, shivering white guy walking around Chicago in November without a coat. They would assume he was coked out, or cracked out, or a blessed combination. He would certainly like to be, and maybe that’s why he was walking this way, following his footsteps of yesteryear. At least he didn’t have any more money in his pockets to tempt him.

It just wasn’t _fair_. Not that things usually were, but _Jesus_. He’d been doing so well, recently; controlling the ghosts, learning to work the impressions and auras and shit. For what? For all of it to be thrown away the second it could be useful? Suddenly, the ghosts could attack people without his say so, and suddenly, he was forcing people into lucid dream _nightmares._ And it had to be with Dave. It had to be the one person Klaus would rather die than let into his head.

Musical bass thumped in the building he was walking past. An old party spot. He recognized the bouncer, and waved without thinking. “Hey, Derek.”

The big guy squinted at him. “Do I know you?”

“In another life.”

He turned away, smiling weakly at the small line of people. It wasn’t the drug dealers and partiers that recognized him, now. It was the normal people on the street. The _fans_. Those stupid fucking comic books were still big sellers; writers and artists beating the dead horse that was their life rights. Sold away by their father at the ripe age of twelve.

He didn't remember it being so bad, but Allison helpfully supplied that he'd spent almost a whole decade as high as possible the first time around. Not super receptive to reality, which made it all the harder to adjust. At least Vanya could enjoy her anonymity. Dad never had a clue how much she really knew about herself.

Millennium Park was quiet to his right; cars and pedestrians obnoxiously loud on the right. He’d been walking longer and farther than he meant to, lost in spiraling thoughts. Diego made it sound so easy – just make Dave love him. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Just _make_ him.

Diego got to fix his mistakes, and he just assumed it would be the same for everyone. Klaus just kept making things worse.

He wanted to go home and curl up in his bed. Spin a sad record and knit until his fingers locked up in spasms. If he snuck in through the window, no one would question him. Dave would have to sleep at some point...in a perfect hypothetical, though, maybe he'd just come crawl in next to Klaus and hold him.

The cold was getting harder to ignore, and a sudden wind blew through the trees and against his exposed flesh. Hands in pockets, he made a show of looking both ways before crossing the intersection, trying to catch a glimpse of who was following him.

Because he was definitely being tailed.

The people out at this hour were younger, dressed nice to eat at restaurants or catch a show. One of them was very focused on him - his awareness of it was riding the fine line between supernatural and practiced. With his powers acting up, it was hard to tell, but someone's gaze was tickling the back of his neck.

He should have called Diego, or Luther. A police station wasn’t far off. But he didn’t go that way. Instead, stupidly, he turned into the next alley that presented itself. The plan, and that was quite a strong word, was to wait at the other end and wait to see who turned to follow him down the narrow path.

The _end_, as it were, was dead. No outlet. Too jumpy to turn around, he jogged to the brick wall and pressed his back to it, trying to hide in the meager shadows. Street lights didn’t quite reach the corners, and the darkness reacted to him like it always did. Stirring and reaching out to him.

He went as still as possible as a figure at the street-end stopped and looked directly toward him. A woman…maybe? Even now, he didn’t want to make assumptions. Short. Wide stance. A hood pulled up over the hair and distance making features foggy and indistinct. Surely they could see him. Surely they knew he was standing there, no place to escape. Diego’s shoes were too small – Klaus’ heels hung over the backs and there was no way he’d be able to run without tripping.

His blood went cold as the figure raised a gloved hand and waved. Not a _wave_ wave – just a flutter of fingers. That was _his_ wave. The lackadaisical, unworried one he’d given to the bouncer. They must have seen. They'd followed him for a while.

_I see you_, that wave said. Ominous and taunting.

A group of people shuffled past the opening, taking the figure along with them. Klaus sagged, gasping and struggling to keep his knees from giving out. Well, that was fun.

“You’re such an _idiot_,” he said to himself, fishing for his phone with numb fingers. Everyone had sent him angry or anxious messages, but it was Vanya he texted.

_Be home soon._

He checked over his shoulder the whole way back, failing to see anything out of the ordinary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know. It just felt right.


	7. Night's Watch

_You know it seems the more we talk about it_

_It only makes it worse to live without it_

_But let's talk about it_

_Oh, wouldn't it be nice?_

_\- _Wouldn't It Be Nice// The Beach Boys

They were doing watches, now. Number One’s orders. And since Ben still had to go to school Monday morning, it was Klaus sitting up all night in the living room. Not that he could sleep if he tried. The pillow didn’t make the floor more comfortable to sit on, and the early-morning reruns didn’t make his vigil any more interesting. Luther snored comfortably behind him on the couch, and Kibbles squirmed in his lap. The thorough brushing clearly wasn’t his idea of fun, either, but Klaus was determined to be a good dog owner. How an inside dog got so tangled, he had no clue. He’d need a bath, soon, but for now his fur was so white it didn’t seem necessary. Or he’d let Ben do it. Kibbles didn’t need to see Klaus as the bad guy, too.

No one had outright yelled. That was good, because it meant he was able to get his explanation out. Jasika said she understood, but she still looked terrified. Dave’s silence was much worse.

"Next time maybe call us back before you get your fucking nose pierced," Allison had said.

Only when everyone had left, and Dave was shut up in Klaus' room, did Klaus tell Ben about the lucid dream.

“That explains it,” he’d muttered.

“What?”

“He was acting weird. Really weird.” Unlike Diego, Ben didn’t have any words of wisdom to offer. Just said quietly that he was glad Klaus was okay, and not to go running off again.

That Klaus had been followed wasn’t a great surprise to anyone. It just put a face - or at least a body - to what was happening. They didn’t doubt for a second that the person at the end of the alley was the one who had killed the dentist. Klaus also didn’t doubt that this person was willing and able to do it again, given the chance. To Klaus, or Jasika. Or Eudora.

The thought chilled him, and he let Kibbles escape his lap so he could grip the kitchen knife. Those people. Hazel and Blah-Blah. They’d walked right into the mansion that night. What would stop someone like them from coming into his apartment, now? And they had _guns_.

Luther had his own set of guns. Diego had knives made for more than spreading butter. Ben, Vanya, and Allison all had crazy super-powers that no one could fight. Klaus didn’t have any of that. His powers were useless when it came down to it, and Dad had never bothered forcing him into combat training. Said he was too weak. ‘Pansy’ was the word, if Klaus remembered correctly. Mean, but true. Hand to God, if someone busted through the door at that exact second, he wouldn’t even use the knife. He'd cower and beg for his life. 

He batted Luther’s arm away from a sleepy grab to his shoulder. When it happened again less than an hour later, Klaus grabbed Kibbles and stuck him against Luther’s side. A big arm pinned him in place right away, holding him like a wiggly teddy bear. Kibbles didn’t fight for long, instead settling in with a sigh. Luther made a contented sound in his sleep.

“God, you need a girlfriend,” Klaus muttered, sitting back and twirling the knife. He’d been inside for hours now, and he was still shivering. The blanket over his legs wasn’t enough. Maybe he _should_ give in and cuddle with Luther. The guy was like a space heater.

“Morning,” Ben said quietly. Klaus jumped. He hadn’t heard the door open.

“That time already?” How long had he been staring at the wall?

“I have some reading to do. You can go sleep, if you want. I’ll wake Luther before I go.”

Klaus didn't argue. There was still a little warmth clinging to Ben's sheets. Klaus huddled in on himself, back aching from sitting on the floor for so long, and actually managed to sleep.

*********

When the door opened, he nearly snapped at Ben to be quiet. But the sunlight burned through his eyelids, spurring him awake. He realized with a jolt that a lot of time must have passed. He sat up stiffly, rubbing his sore eyes. Foggy head, bone-deep chill... five hours, he’d guess. Basically a full night’s sleep.

“Hey.”

Klaus froze, steeling himself before lowering his hands. Dave stood in the doorway, rocking on his heels like he hadn’t quite decided to come in or not. Still in Ben’s clothes. The shirt was wrinkled, but the slacks looked like they’d been neatly folded overnight. So he’d slept in Klaus’ bed without them. God.

“I gotta rap with you about something,” Dave said.

_Cower and beg,_ his brain commanded. Would the window even shatter against his weight? Or did he need a running start to get through the glass? He shifted back as Dave walked forward, gripping the blankets like a shield.

“When…when I was in your head," Dave began. "Or you were in mine – I’m not sure which it was.” He sat on the side of the mattress. Klaus pulled his feet up, heart pounding. "It really seemed like - "

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Klaus interrupted, his voice way too loud. “It’s never happened before, and I don’t know what it was. Just forget about it, dig?”

Dave blinked, surprised. Klaus pressed his lips together and stared at his knees. The slang had slipped out on accident. He’d never totally gotten the hang of it, but some remnants were desperately trying to make themselves known.

“Where’s Luther?” He asked, needing desperately for the subject to change.

Dave frowned. “Left. Said he had to get to work.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. Of course. “I’ll call Vanya. See if they have any more plans for…”

“Testing us,” Dave finished. Klaus nodded. “Sure. Our secret superpowers.”

His mouth tilted up, offering the joke as something to share. Klaus stared at that almost-smile, bewildered at Dave’s change in temperament and unsettled at how fast his heart was completely betraying him. 

“You knew I was adopted.”

It wasn’t an accusation, so Klaus didn’t admit to anything. He lifted one shoulder, shrugging it off. “Lucky guess.”

Dave looked around the room. Clearly, he wasn't finished with whatever this was. The torture would continue, because Klaus was too weak to send him away directly.

“Can your sister really do what they said?”

Klaus cleared his throat. “Which one?”

“Allison.”

“Yes. She can.” It was bizarre to hear Dave say her name so casually. “Don’t worry – she swore she would never…” Never _again_. “Never use it on any of us.” She hadn’t used it at all, here, to his knowledge. Not since the last Academy mission. “But it’s not like you’d know if she did."

Poor Vanya. Poor Allison, for being forced to do it. Poor all of them for being born freaks. The only person he couldn’t blame was the mothers – they’d made sinful amounts of money from selling the little mistakes. 

“Would you tell me?” Dave asked.

Klaus nodded before he was aware of the question - Dave really needed to quit talking to him like this. It was bordering on normalcy, and that way lie madness. Dave looked relieved, and then awkward, like the awkwardness of their situation was finally dawning on him.

"I need to shower," Klaus said, offering him the way out. Dave stood up from the mattress, drawing Klaus' attention back to those too-short pants. If they were going to be on speaking terms from now on... "Let me get you something else to wear. You should know better than wearing blue on black."

Dave looked down at his outfit, brow furrowing. "I didn't pick it out."

"Still." Klaus threw the blankets off and hurried across the hall, trying not to think about how his hair was probably sticking straight up. The changed energy in his room was more prominent, fully seeped into the air. He ignored it, then ignored the way his bed was so neatly made.

"I really just took what he gave me," Dave said behind him, sounding worried. Like it would really bother him if Klaus thought poorly of his sense of style.

Klaus pulled the middle drawer of his dresser out, peering through his collection for something suitable. Everything was skin-tight or a skirt, and even if Dave was from the sixties, he was still a Kansas boy.

“Sweatpants okay?” Klaus asked over his shoulder, folding his fingers around the soft, inexpensive fabric. “They might make you run again.”

“That’s fine,” Dave said. Klaus handed them over without looking, finding a pair of leggings for himself. The t-shirt drawer was above it. White for Dave, an old graphic thing for Klaus. And, just to assure himself that it was still there, he let his hand dig down between the layers of fabric and brush against the envelope. It didn’t literally burn him, but his hand jerked back like he’d touched a stove-top, registering the contact before the pain could hit.

“You’re the only one I haven’t thanked," Dave said quietly, oblivious to Klaus' moment of masochism.

“What?”

Klaus turned. Dave set the clothes down on the bed, folding his hands over his elbows and managing to look uncomfortable and earnest all at once. “For everything you’ve done. Letting me sleep in your bed.”

His expression was as open as it had been when Klaus had first seen him in this timeline – wide-eyed in the face of time travel and this group of people who could somehow be jaded to it.

_And then I saw you._

“I understand, now,” he went on. Klaus didn’t know what he meant for a frightening second. “Last night. It was just…scary? I mean, you were really giving me the heebie-jeebies, and when she started choking...I didn’t know what else to think.”

It was one-sided, obviously, but the tension was killer. Klaus felt like one of Vanya's violin strings - taut, sharp. Just waiting for someone to rake a bow across. And he had no idea what to say. "I get it," he forced out.

Dave still looked apologetic, but Klaus decided he'd had enough. He moved around Dave in a wide berth, needing the bathroom door between them. And then the shower curtain, and then plenty of steam.

It was almost like being alone. He scrubbed himself down with quick, sharp muscle-memory. Only this time the soap was an actual brand, not some slapdash, soldier-cooked lye that burned his face. His fingernails were clean, but he found himself scrubbing at them anyway.

The tee shirt had started out modest enough. The black print of a plague doctor mask reminded him of a podcast he had listened to, once. Podcasts. He couldn’t wait for them to show up again., He’d taken scissors to it around age fifteen, so now the neck was slashed into a V, the sides hanging open to his ribs. He used to think it made him look cut, but now it just added to his innate gauntness. Even three square meals back at the mansion hadn’t been able to fill him out._ Still young,_ he reminded himself. _Still growing._

Thinking of Janice, he leaned over the sink and washed the piercing out with hand soap, working the suds against the hole in his septum until his eyes stung with tears. It hurt worse today, and some horrible type of crust had gathered around the puncture as he slept.

He paused halfway through running some of Ben’s product through his hair, realizing with a sigh how much of a lost cause this was. Taming his curls was one thing. Doing it _now_ was pathetic. He considered adding some rudimentary liner, but the skin under his eyes was mottled enough as it was. Purple from his overnight watch. Nearly the same color as the mark on his chin. The bruises were fading, but still added to his general unpleasantness.

Hit in the face by his father’s portrait. The therapists should be paying _him._

“Kibbles?” He called, looking around in the hall. A small, contented bark from the living room pulled him that way. Dave sat on the couch, twiddling his thumbs with one foot up over his knee. The lines of his arms were less bulky than they had been in Vietnam, but there was a sinewy strength to them that Klaus had never had on his own body. Kibbles was curled into the far corner, only his half-open eyes indicating consciousness.

“Still haven’t figured out the TV?” He took Ben’s jacket from the coat rack and pulled it over his cold arms. Fuck it, he knew Vanya’s schedule. She’d be home.

Even though Dave was clearly waiting on him, he looked surprised at being addressed. “Oh. No, not really.”

“Let me ask,” Klaus mused, handing him another jacket. It was big. Maybe Luther’s. “Were you an _Andy Griffith _guy, or _Leave it to Beaver?”_

He held the door for Dave and locked up. They hadn’t talked about that much, and there definitely hadn’t been TVs in the camp. He was a few steps down staircase before he stopped. Dave wasn’t following.

“That was so long ago, now.” He said from the top of the flight. “All those actors must be dead.”

“Yeah,” Kaus said, then remembered. “Actually – Andy Griffith has a few more years left.”

“Right. Because you’ve lived all this. Before.” Dave started moving again, catching up to Klaus’ side when they were on the street. Klaus frowned – it looked like his siblings had told Dave more than he realized. “You don’t know how many things I’ve just had to accept these past few days. I’m…I’m in fuckin’ la la land, you dig?” He ended on a nervous laugh that Klaus refused to smile at.

“Aren’t we all?” The walk to Vanya’s was short and familiar. Nobody he could see looked out of place, or like they were paying the two of them any special attention. He doubted they’d follow him in the broad – if chilly – daylight. That hope didn’t calm him. Dave, at least, seemed equally wary. It wasn’t obvious – a tightness to his spine, a sharp look every few steps before disappearing back into a mask of comfort. How was he so good at this?

Words sat on the tip of his tongue. It would be so simple. _How are you doing, really? What was your life like in Kansas? What did you mean when you said you _saw_ me? Cuz neither of us really acknowledged that whole thing and I might go nuts if you don’t say something._

Dave didn’t talk. Or maybe he didn’t have anything to say. Once, as they passed a rowdy group of post-brunch moms, he moved closer and their shoulders brushed. Even with all the layers between them, something like warmth shot up Klaus’ arm. All the way to his chest.

Klaus moved away as quickly as he could, convincing himself he imagined it even as the cold rushed back in.

A stern look at the intercom buzzed them into the building. Dave frowned, but he didn’t bother explaining. He hadn’t been super involved with everything – it saved time to assume Dave had already been told about that particular power.

Vanya and Allison’s apartment was slightly more downtown, which meant smaller and more expensive. Somehow, though, it felt bigger. Maybe they were just cleaner, or better at decorating. There was never any clutter around. The wood floors were old but clean. Something plugged into a wall somewhere made the air smell like apples. He really should have chosen to live with Vanya, but what’s done was done.

Their white, low sofa always had a pink blanket folded over the back. Klaus had fallen asleep so many times under that blanket, and now Jasika had it wrapped around her shoulders. She looked a little startled when the door opened without a knock, but quickly dissolved into a bright smile at Dave. Klaus felt his eyes go wide and he bit down on a gasp.

“Sleep all right?” Dave asked, breaking away from Klaus’ side to stand where he could see what she’d been watching. _Aladdin_, it sounded like. Yep, she was definitely twelve.

“All quiet over here,” Vanya said, to make up for Jasika’s conspicuous lack of a response. She stood in the kitchen entryway with a cup of coffee, shoulders slumped from lack of sleep.

“Allison didn’t take a watch, did she?” Klaus guessed, sidling past her and stealing her cup on the way. They had a kitchen, here, not a kitchenette. Enough room for a little table by the window. He sat there, shrugging off the last effects of being alone with Dave.

“She had rehearsal today. I don’t have anything going on, so.” She shrugged, pouring herself a replacement. “Dave! Want coffee?”

“He doesn’t drink coffee,” Klaus murmured to himself, just before Dave called back a _no, thank you_. And when had they gotten so casual? Had he been that checked out these last two days?

“Why don’t you go sleep,” he suggested, reluctantly. “I’ll stay up with the kids.”

She seemed to consider it. Her hair was done back in two braids, which wasn’t her norm. They were clunky. Done by the hand of a certain twelve-year-old, no doubt. “I’ll be fine. We should really…”

He followed her gaze, to the journal in the middle of the table he’d been ignoring.

“I haven’t read it.”

Unwelcome guilt forced his mind to that envelope. Five was such a bastard. “Well, I’m not going to. It’s evil.”

She seemed to agree, sitting across from him and pushing it to the side. “I was thinking. About last night. How you went into Dave's mind for a second.”

Klaus sat up straighter. It surprised him that Dave would have told them anything about it.

“What if…what if you worked on that? Tried to…I don’t know, see if you can find their powers _for_ them.”

He almost choked on his coffee. Do that _again?_ “No!”

Vanya raised her eyebrows.

“I mean – I don’t even know how it happened. And they probably don’t _have_ powers – “

“That was _your_ argument! You guessed they were adopted, and that the Commission – “

“Yes. Yeah. I did say that.” Stupid. He should have kept his opinions to himself. It was so much easier to weasel out of things when he didn’t have a stake. “I…_did_…say that…”

“Look, if you’re scared – “

“I’m _not_ scared,” he lied. Vanya glanced down to his white-knuckled grip on his mug.

“Okay. Forget it. What do _you_ suggest?”

He gestured to the book. “Drown them? Hook them up to brain scan doohickeys and zap them with electricity?” She went pale at the memories. “I don’t suggest _anything_, because what worked on us clearly had lasting psychological effects. And for what? Fighting _crime?" _He pointed out at the living room. "They were lucky enough to be raised by_ real _parents. If they never ‘find’ their powers, they’re better off.”

“Well, it caught me by surprise," she said stubbornly, tilting her chin out. "Was I better off?”

Guilt twisted further, pulling at his stomach like a stab wound. “I guess not.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way. Could Dave have a power like hers? The kind that festers and explodes at the first provocations? Klaus’ was more like a creeping shadow. He had to keep it at bay, even in Vanya’s bright, sunny kitchen, the places where light didn’t reach weren’t as quiet as they should be. But his powers couldn’t hurt anyone but himself.

...until Jasika. He’d blamed the séance disaster on his own inability to control the other side, but she had _called out_ to it. That could have been some kind of power. But it wasn't just that. The ghost that attacked her was stronger than most. It still hung to her back, benign for now but clearly planning to stay. It would probably turn into a problem, sooner or later.

“And you shouldn’t be so hard on Allison.”

He blinked at Vanya. “Oh?”

“Yeah. She was up all night crying.”

It was hard to make up a witty response, so he just sniffed.

“Five must have his reasons,” Vanya said softly. Hopefully. “And there must be a reason he isn’t telling us what they are. It’s up to us, but something’s coming. And we're gonna need them.”

His stomach was empty, but he felt sick. Five and his secrets were going to tear them apart all over again. For good. Already, he saw the fingers pointing in his direction. Luther and Allison would turn against him first. Then Diego. Ben. And Vanya…

“Fine. I’ll try the mind thingie,” he relented, knowing it was a mistake. He liked making her smile. “I assume you’ll volunteer? There’s not enough in Luther’s head for me to know if it’s working or not.”

“Of course.” She laughed as his stomach growled. “Hungry?”

“Please feed me,” he begged.

“Pancakes or waffles?”

****************

“You want us to go see your _play?”_ Klaus said incredulously, looking down at the ticket. _As You Like It._ That Friday night at six. The Chicago Theater, of course. And they’d have to dress up. He wondered if Five had accounted for all this leisure time. “At a time like this?” 

“It’s my _job,_” Allison said. She made a move to snatch the ticket back. He pulled it away protectively. "And if I have to do my job, then you have to do yours and support me.”

Klaus slumped back against Vanya’s legs. They’d finally gotten some peace and quiet after Diego and Luther had taken Dave off to the gym. The physical exercise thing _wasn’t_ going to work, but at least Klaus could breathe normally for a while. Jasika had been spared only because their gym was sort of an awkward place to take such a young girl. Right now, they were watching her watch _The Little Mermaid _for the first time. She was paying such rapt attention that Allison cut her rant short and sat to join them.

“Anything happen today?” She asked. Jasika shook her head, eyes stuck on the screen.

“Dave was here. Now he’s with your brothers.”

Klaus squinted at her. She had been in _such _a good mood all day. Considering the trauma of the night before, that was impressive. Or worrying.

Later, when his sisters were rattling around in the kitchen – hopefully making lunch – he lifted himself off the floor and to the cushions.

Jasika was taller than Vanya, but didn't really look it. Just behind her, behind the veil Klaus kept carefully drawn shut, was the ghost. Indistinct, without real shape. It wasn’t trying to push through, or get his attention. Even looking at it should have drawn it to react. It didn’t.

“Are you cold?” He asked, looking at the blanket. She blinked away from the TV and shook her head. “Nauseous?”

“No? Why?”

“Just wondering,” he muttered, contorting himself so he could slump down with both feet on the cushion. “How you’re taking everything.”

“Oh.” She went quiet, but her attention wasn’t on the movie anymore. “I’m all right.”

“You’re terrified,” he argued. His bluntness surprised her. “And you should be. But it just means you’re smart.”

To his great surprise, and discomfort, she shifted closer, drawing the blanket up and throwing some over his lap. He didn’t realize he’d been shivering.

“Are you not afraid?”

He laughed a little, leaning away from the ghost as imperceptibly as he could. “Comes with the territory. We’re all used to it.” Mostly.

“What do you think my power will be?” She asked, twisting her hair in her fingers.

“You’ll probably turn into a mermaid. We’ll have to drop you off in the lake.”

“Or maybe a talking crab,” she giggled.

“Just don’t be an octopus. Don’t wanna steal Ben’s thunder.”

They ate turkey sandwiches – just cheese for Klaus – and watched two more movies with Allison and Vanya. It was probably not a good use of time, but catching her up on the culture was as important as anything. A girl her age should know at least one Hannah Montana song.

Then Diego texted him.

_En route to your place._

He blinked at his phone, reading the text out loud.

“Sounds like they’re en route to your place,” Allison commented drily, flipping through a huge packet that contained her character's lines.

“Yeah, but…” but Ben was still on campus. They were just gonna drop Dave off? No, no, Luther would stay with them again. He was sure. The man was a born buffer.

“If you want me to walk you home, you just have to ask.”

Oh, she thought he was scared to _walk home_. “And burden you with my company? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Fine.”

“_Fine.”_ Remembering what Vanya told him, he paused to pat her gigantic bun on his way out. “Your hair looks nice today.”

Her eyes narrowed, trying to suss out any sarcasm. “Yours, too.”

She hid behind her lines after saying it. Klaus winked at Vanya. “See you tomorrow. Bye, Jasika.”

She smiled, and he was pleased to see that she didn’t look scared of him anymore.

*********************

“Net…flicks,” Dave said uncertainly. Klaus, as far away as he could possibly be while still sitting on the same couch, nodded. Dave had spent some time googling things on Ben’s computer – the basics of wifi clearly weren’t past him.

“Yeah. Here.” He set the remote down between them instead of handing it over, drawing his arm back to scratch behind Kibbles’ ears. They’d been alone for two hours, now. Diego wasn’t there when he arrived, and Luther ran right off to run lines with Allison. He’d phone-a-friend, if he had any to help.

Dave clicked through the options. They must have worked him pretty hard at the gym. He looked exhausted, relaxed against the couch with his bare feet on the floor, legs spread just enough for Klaus’ heart to pound inappropriately hard against his ribcage. At least they’d thought to take him shopping so he wasn’t wearing borrowed clothes anymore. The new ones were basic, and should have been unflattering.

Because it was Dave, they weren’t.

Klaus pointed out a random old drama when it became clear Dave couldn’t choose. From the seventies, it looked like. Netflix had a few years to go before its streaming options were anything impressive. They used Eudora’s password; otherwise Klaus wouldn’t pay for it. Ben only watched his DVDs or used the TV for video games.

If the sun was still up, he’d go to his brother’s room and hide. Now, he’d probably fall asleep, and get yelled at for not keeping a watch. He really needed to remind everyone, again, that he was useless in a fight. Dave wasn’t any safer with Klaus there. No reason they should be subjected to the other’s company.

“Do you work?” Dave asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world to talk to Klaus.

“Kind of.”

After a short silence, he realized Dave was waiting for a real answer. “I teach knitting. To old ladies at the craft center.”

He expected to get laughed at, but Dave looked confused. “They pay you for that?”

Klaus nodded, hefting Kibbles’ surprisingly dense weight so he could cross his legs. “It’s about as much as I can hope for, with no degree.”

“Really?” He sounded doubtful.

“I don’t need to tell you this, but it’s a lot different than where you’re from. Okay?”

“Right on,” Dave frowned. “I was hoping to find a job.”

“Why?” Klaus asked, snappier than he meant to. The two of them had _just_ been deposited into the twenty-first century. Less than a week ago. Right in the middle of another Commission disaster. Job-searching wouldn’t have been very high on Klaus’ list.

“I can’t keep scrounging off you guys. It’s not right.”

“No one thinks that.” Klaus found himself looking over, meeting his eyes with a pang. “You’re one of us.”

_One of us_. It scared him how easy that was getting.

“It’s not right,” he repeated, setting his jaw. Klaus knew how stubborn he could be.

“We’ll worry about it later. Spreading out even more than we are isn’t a good idea.” They couldn’t just quit the jobs they already had, either. Five told them to keep things normal. Anything too significant may draw more attention from the Commission. More than they already had, anyway. One murderer running around was plenty.

He spun the horseshoe-shaped ring around in his nose, irritable. One very brutal, very absent murderer. What was taking so long? Why were they hanging around on the edges like this? The last time, it had been all guns a-blazing in the mansion foyer.

“It used to be such a to-do,” Dave said a while later. Kibbles moved to the floor, chewing viciously at a sock Klaus had sacrificed to him. “Going to the movies. We had to drive about forty miles to the nearest town.”

Klaus hummed a response, knitting and finishing up one of the sweater sleeves, finally. “See anything good?”

“I think…I must’ve been about sixteen the last time we went. _Twelve Angry Men_.”

“Never heard of it,” Klaus lied. He shouldn’t let on just how much he knew about the past. How many hours he’d spent watching old movies, wondering if Dave had ever seen them.

He didn’t think that time period was actually all that great. The hazy camera and ridiculous dialogue were picturesque. They romanticized reality as much as his memories did.

“Well. I can see why. You can just watch whatever you want. Too many options, if you ask me.”

“Yeah,” Klaus frowned at his yarn. He thought he was doing a very convincing job of not paying attention to Dave’s every word.

“Not much of a people person, are you?”

“Nope.” At least that was true. Only his knitting ladies seemed to like him. It was enough. “And we really don’t need to force a conversation.”

Dave found that funny, for some reason. “Sore you got stuck babysittin’?”

“That’s not – “ Klaus stilled, knocked into silence at Dave’s wry smile. “Not what I meant.”

“Sure it is,” he pressed, crossing his arms. “You just go on knitting and I’ll sit here and watch my shows. Real quiet like.”

With a great sense of impending doom, Klaus didn’t listen to him and just shut up while he could. “We have nothing to talk about.”

Dave raised an eyebrow. As he looked away from the show, the smile around his mouth faded away. He turned serious, and Klaus’ chest flipped. Oops. He should _not_ have opened this door.

Dave opened his mouth, clearly about to bring up subjects better left alone, and then the front door opened with a creak. Klaus sank back with a sigh of relief as Ben shuffled in.

“Hey,” Ben said more to Dave than Klaus, shrugging off one of his backpack straps. “Any news?”

They shook their heads. He didn’t look surprised. “Vanya said you had a plan."

“The start of one,” Klaus amended quickly, glancing at Dave and inwardly flinching when their eyes met. “When did you talk to her?”

Ben turned from the fridge and pointed to his eyes as he rolled them, making sure Klaus couldn’t miss it. “We’re pretty close, you know. Some might call her my _sister._”

Klaus chose to ignore that, working on his wrong side row at the cuff of the sleeve. “Where are your DVDs? Dave’s never seen _Lord of the Rings._”

“I think those are in my room. Hang on.” Ben disappeared and came back with all three cases. Klaus relaxed further – Ben was such a nerd for this stuff. He’d sit and watch, and Klaus could make his escape.

“There are movies?” Dave asked in wonder, taking the case as Ben stuck the DVD in the Xbox. His shock and delight were palpable. Klaus didn’t even feel guilty for using this knowledge to his own purposes. “I read all the books…”

“Me too!” Ben hovered like he was about to sit, then shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll like it. Gotta go work on a paper.”

“But – “ Klaus started, watching him take his plate and go. “You’re not gonna watch?”

“Homework,” Ben called back in explanation. The door shut with a horrible finality as the commercials started. Great. Now Klaus had trapped himself into at least two hours more of _this._

The beginning wasn’t so bad. He’d always made an honest effort to pay attention at the start, but about an hour in things just got very slow and explain-y. There were only so many fictional creatures he could keep track of. Dave watched with rapt attention, elbows on his knees. Klaus kept looking up from his knitting, and his watching of Dave eventually bled over to his watching of the movie, until he realized with a shock that he was actually enjoying it.

“I never understood why the stupid ring is so important.”

“They explained it all in the first ten minutes.” Dave shifted, crossing his legs and stretching. Klaus looked intently at the sweater he hadn’t touched in maybe half an hour. His needles had just been hanging in the air. “See, Sauron disguised himself as this big gift-giver during the Second Age, and…”

He explained it. Klaus asked another question, and he answered that, too.

For the first time ever, Klaus wanted to know more about the ridiculous stuff.

He set his needles to the side and watched.

*****************

Dreams. Nice ones, for once. The kind he’d never remember when he woke up. He was a bird, or something, landing on a large rock. The rough surface was warmed from the sun, and bobbed up and down like the waves around it. The warmth seeped into his core, into every place he thought would always be cold. It was so incredibly nice. He pressed his face against it, sighing at the sensation.

The rock shifted, hard like a shoulder. Like…

He opened his eyes.

Legs, stretched out and resting on the corner of the coffee table. Blonde wisps of hair on Dave’s big toes. A movie still played. They had just started the second one, and Dave had been explaining something or other. Klaus hadn’t been bored, but his eyelids had gotten so _heavy_…

He tensed. Dave.

“It’s okay,” a voice said. A very soft, familiar voice.

Klaus shot up, throwing himself against the opposite couch arm so hard it hurt. Dave sat up, too, feet falling to the floor. One of his arms still stretched over the back of a cushion, like it had been curled around a body just moments before.

“You – you fell asleep. Looked like you needed it," he explained in a hurry, hushed like Klaus was a wild animal he was trying to talk down. He watched Klaus struggle for breath, growing alarmed. "Are you - ?"

Seconds later, it seemed, Klaus had locked himself in the bathroom and turned the shower on. Cold tile met his hands as he sank to the floor. His vision swam.

_The bathroom at the back of the club. It was dark, Dave’s face lit only by wayward strobes flashing in time to the song. _The_ song. What Klaus would always remember as their song. He didn’t need the light to see. Their faces were just barely parted, Klaus’ stomach a ball of nerves and anticipation._

_“You just kissed me,” he breathed, knowing it smelled the same as Dave’s. Whiskey and hoa qua dam from the bar. Far more of the former. The sweetness of it washed over his face as Dave moved his body closer, crowding them both back into the corner._

_“At ease, soldier,” Dave smiled. Dancing had made them both sweaty, but Klaus could only blame the proximity for his breathlessness. “I think I’m gonna do it again.”_

_“I’m waiting,” Klaus teased, smiling back even as the warmth of Dave’s mouth covered his. Salt, cigarettes. Love._

He snapped out of it with a gasp of pain. His nails had broken the skin of his ankle as they dug for purchase. Bass pounded in his temples. Negative space where the music had been only moments ago. Years ago.

“No,” he whispered. Like a crazy person. Bathroom – he was in his bathroom.

He was in the bathroom, and the Dave that was on his couch was _not_ his Dave. It was someone else. Someone else.

This was a betrayal. Letting his memories get all muddled was worse than forgetting. It was…it was _cheating_. In more than one way – letting himself feel was like pretending it had never happened. The pain couldn’t exist with anything else. It consumed anything else. It consumed _him._ Nothing had ever made him question that. Pain was all that was left of his Dave.

Pain kept Dave alive. He wasn’t just a memory. If he was, the kiss wouldn’t still burn Klaus’ lips. He scrubbed at his mouth, and then his cheeks.

“Done already?” Ben teased when Klaus walked in, slamming the door shut behind him. He looked up from typing on his little computer, smile disappearing at whatever he saw on Klaus' face.

"You did that on _purpose?_ You think it's _funny?"_

“I – “ Ben fumbled for words. “Well, not anymore!”

Klaus jerked the covers back and over himself, shuffling to his side of the mattress.

“What happened?” Ben asked. “The story doesn’t even get sad until the third movie.”

Klaus buried his face in the pillow, welcoming the twinge in his nose as the septum ring was jostled.

Something slimy slapped him on the back of the head when he didn’t say anything. “Leave me alone.”

“Fine. _I’ll _go keep him company," Ben sighed. The desk chair wheezed as he stood up. “I’ll wake you up at four.”

Klaus said nothing, and when Ben came back almost five hours later he hadn’t slept at all.


	8. Flyer

_Ghost in your house, ghost in your arms_   
_When you're tossing, when you turn in your sleep_   
_It's because I'm ghosting your dreams_

_\- _Ghosting//Mother Mother

“Oooh, honey,” Andrea clucked, taking one of Klaus’ finished sleeves in her fingers. He was way ahead of schedule, now, and could focus on keeping them all in line. “Bad weekend?”

“Just too much free time,” he evaded, waiting as they settled into their little circle. Edith’s skirt suit was well-kept enough for a compliment, and in thanks she pointed out the circles under his eyes, swinging group suspicion right back to him. He muttered another excuse about loud neighbors and ignored their looks to each other.

“Now, if you can see how I did the stitching here…” he held out the ribbed sleeve cuff and helped them all get started. It was grueling, holding up the façade for two hours. His lapse in judgement the previous night had cost him, both in sleep and mental stability. He kept thinking he could smell Dave on his clothes, which didn't make any sense. Dave hadn't worn these.

His body just wanted to sleep, but he didn't trust himself not to have complicated and upsetting dreams about hobbits and rings and strong farm boy shoulders.

Of course Karma was just outside when it was over. Maybe even waiting for him.

“My, my,” she said, voice overly sweet and, as always, overly familiar. “Late night, you scoundrel?”

Was it _really_ that obvious? He smiled, catching her yoga mat for her when it slipped out of her bag. “How was your weekend, Miss Karma?”

She giggled at that, flipping blonde and gray hair over her shoulder as she placed the rolled foam more firmly in place. “Much tamer than yours, let’s hope. Let’s see…I went to the park – but you know those smokers are everywhere. Can’t catch a breath of fresh air in this city anymore.”

He nodded false sympathy, waving at another familiar craft center face. An older man who taught typing. He took one look at Karma and scampered off in the opposite direction.

“Saw another one of you Hargreeves kids” she said, trying to recall. “…Spaceboy!”

Klaus shuddered at the comic-book name. “Luther. Just Luther.”

“Right. Well, he was walking down the street with the _tastiest_ little morsel.”

For once, she had caught his genuine attention. “That’s nice. I wasn’t aware he had friends.”

Karma tilted her head to the side, her look far too knowing. “_Quite_ a friend. Real All-American type, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah?” False alarm. She was definitely talking about Dave, and now that he knew Luther didn’t have a secret girlfriend, he didn’t care. Karma must have noticed his lack of interest, because she squeezed his arm and pushed through the doors with a happy _see you Friday._

He waited a few seconds before following her outside. Clouds from that morning had sunk low, obscuring the highest of the buildings in a pale fog. The air was cold and wet at the same time, but not committing to rain. It was all so gray and depressing, just like any other winter day. But it was different than any other day, because something happened that had never happened to Klaus before. Or probably any other native Chicagoan.

He looked at a flyer.

There were thousands of them plastered across the city. Maybe tens of thousands. Bland and ugly and blowing across the streets after storms. This one was bright pink, flapping in the wind against the nearest lamp post. _Missing dog, _some Arial Bold informed him. Not Kibbles, though that was his first ridiculous fear. This dog was short-haired and ugly. Sad for someone, but not for him.

The flyer right above it was thick, expensive cardstock. _Marcks and Brewer Theatre Company presents: _As You Like It. _Starring the Indominable Allison Hargreeves as Rosalind._

There were more names that he didn’t recognize, but the flyer was a distinctive purple. As he looked up and down the street, he could see more of them. Stapled to posts, looking demurely out from glass displays. They’d probably taken out a billboard or something in midtown. For anyone to see.

Stomach sinking, he ripped the flyer down and shoved it in his bag. A sudden prickle on the back of his neck had him whirling around and backing up instinctively.

“Oh,” he said, relieved but not by much. “It’s you.”

************

The empty construction site took up half a block. Two giant cranes reached up into the fog like silent watchdogs, turned so it was almost like they were looking for the McDonalds Klaus could so clearly smell. The scent of fries and mayonnaise drifted all down North State Street. He waited, leaning against the gate that separated the sidewalk from the empty lot.

Luther was only a few minutes late, head bobbing above the crowd. “Shit,” Klaus muttered to himself. Diego was supposed to come _alone._ And the betrayal didn’t end there – on the other side of Luther was a very blonde head of hair. “Double shit.”

“I said this was a _stealth_ mission,” he snapped when they were close enough to hear him. He thrust a finger at Luther. “I’d have called _this_ one if I needed a wall knocked down.”

Luther frowned like that had hurt his big feelings. Diego rolled his eyes. “You didn’t give me any details. And the ghost knew Dave. Thought it might help.”

Klaus heard the faintest of apologies in there somewhere, but shook it off, nodding to the building across the street. “He went in there.”

Because nothing could ever be easy. Once Klaus talked to it, the ghost had turned and walked all the way here, disappearing through the stone walls.

Luther turned to look. “A church?”

“Cathedral,” Klaus corrected, unnecessarily. Calling for backup wasn’t his first thought, but that was a half-hour ago when he thought the ghost was going to come back out of there. It hadn’t. And Klaus was less than eager to go in there alone.

Diego’s eyes darted all over, doing his special kind of math. “You called me. Which means you don’t wanna go through the _front_ doors...”

“Assuming I’m not immediately smited, I think what we’re looking for is pretty hidden.”

“What are we looking for?” Luther asked.

“His body,” Klaus said flatly. No point in mincing words. “I think he died in there.”

And he’d bet a lot of money it hadn’t been a peaceful passing.

“Like…buried?” Dave ventured. Klaus had left the apartment as early as possible, so he wasn’t sure what they’d been up to with him all day, but he was wearing jeans instead of sweats. Luther's jacket's sleeves hung down over his wrists. Maybe they’d passed the working out stage already.

“No,” Klaus shook his head slowly. Unlike Luther, Dave had a pretty good excuse for being slow on the uptake. He hadn’t been around all this for long enough. “Not buried.”

Dave, innocent soul, went very pale. “Surely someone would have…”

“Found it?” Diego started walking. “Hope not. I’ll be right back.”

They waited while he checked the perimeter. Klaus pulled his hands up into his sleeves, breath fogging. Maybe it was the upset the night before, but he felt strangely calm now. Prepared, now that Diego and Luther were here to back him up. And if there was a third, really good-looking blonde guy hanging around, Klaus just wouldn’t pay him any attention.

“I guess he didn’t say anything,” Luther said, meaning the ghost.

Klaus shook his head. “Nothing new, anyway.”

“You mean…” Dave gripped the gate, supporting himself on it. Klaus bit back a comment about how unsanitary that was. “He’s still hungry.”

“Yeah,” Klaus sighed, noticing two girls glance at Luther as they walked past. “Hey – put your hood up. You’re drawing attention.”

Luther complied, looking around in surprise. “I am?”

“The _yoga_ teacher noticed you, Spaceman.”

He didn’t look at all offended. “Yoga teacher?”

Klaus opened his mouth to tell him Karma wasn’t at all his type, or anywhere near his age, but changed his mind mid-sentence. “She – you know, she _does_ seem kind of bitchy. I’ll give her your number.”

Luther narrowed his eyes in a manner way too similar to Allison’s. “What are you implying?”

Oh, they were still _pretending?_ It was so exhausting. “Nothing, Luther. Nothing at all.”

“You – “

“Two side doors.” Diego sidled up next to Klaus, a little out of breath. “One goes down to a basement, it looks like.”

“Cameras?” Luther asked.

“A lot.” He clapped Klaus on the shoulder. “You ready? Let’s work some voodoo.”

********************

They split up at the first turn. The stairs had taken them underground. Klaus didn’t know churches could have offices, but that’s what the entire floor seemed to be. It was surprisingly labyrinthine. And creepy. Some of the rooms had dim overhead lights turned on. Most didn’t.

“No one’s here,” Luther whispered.

“It’s not Sunday,” Klaus whispered back, gripping his arm as they peered through a glass-paneled door. Another office. "How much paperwork could one church even _have?"_

“I don't - Why are you grabbing me?” Luther hissed irritably. He tried to shake Klaus away, but couldn’t. “Are you_ scared?”_

“_No_,” Klaus hissed. “There’s just a lot of ghosts in here.”

Luther stopped trying to push him, looking around like he’d see one. “Why?”

Klaus couldn’t explain just how stupid of a question that was. Of course the ghosts would flock to places like this, thinking they would find some magic door with _Heaven_ written on it. As far as he knew – which wasn’t much, granted – there was no such thing. Only one ghost was gonna find what it was looking for, and Klaus just had to track it down.

Two voices filtered down from the next bend. Luther and Klaus shared a panicked look before diving through an unlocked door. The room was dark and smelled like fresh carpet. Luther pulled them both down, heads just below the frosted glass window set into the door.

The voices stopped nearby, muffled through the door. It sounded like men. One of them laughed, and Klaus was sure he heard the word _golf_. Hot air blasted up from a vent, sinking warmth into the soles of his shoes. He sighed, impatient.

“You know,” Luther started. Klaus’ _shh_ went ignored. “I’m really tired of those little comments of yours.”

“Well, I’m tired of you and Allison pretending you’re not – “

“We’re_ not!” _Luther pushed him so hard he fell back out of his crouch and landed on his ass. “She’s my…my – “

“_Don’t _say sister.” Klaus sat up enough to glance through the glass, ducking back down as a shadow passed over the wall. “It cheapens it for the rest of us.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I _know_, because you’ve been making us all suffer through the side-stepping for a lifetime and a half.”

It was a lot meaner than he would usually allow himself to be. Honestly, their little drama was super easy to ignore most of the time. Recent events had taken a razor’s edge to his self-imposed obliviousness.

Luther’s eyebrows twitched together. “What?”

And it looked like _oblivious _seriously ran in their family. They didn’t share blood, so it must have been a proximity thing. “Wait.” Luther pressed his ear to the door. “They’re gone.”

Carefully, they crept back into the hall, finding a maintenance door at the end. It was the only door they’d seen that had a mechanized card-swipe device instead of a regular lock. Instead of waiting for Diego and his little con-man lock picks, Klaus pressed his hand to it, waiting for the click. 

Luther pulled it open an inch, holding his breath for five seconds. No alarm. Klaus reeled back as he pulled it all the way out. “Do you feel that?”

"I don't feel anything."

They stood side by side, looking at the staircase that descended down into darkness. Ice cold air vented up in waves. “Then I guess this is the right way.”

Luther went first, holding his phone up as a flashlight. Klaus stayed right behind him, peeking over his shoulder. The stairs were plain metal, making vaguely organic noises as they padded down. Like descending into a massive iron stomach.

“So what’s the deal with you and Dave?”

Klaus’ foot slipped. He caught himself on the rickety banister with a loud _clang_. “Deal? There’s no deal.”

“Yes, there is. I know a deal when I see – “

He stopped suddenly, clapping a hand over his nose and mouth. Klaus stopped, too, snatching the phone out of his hand and pointing it down the dark drop off next to the staircase. It looked like they were descending into an old-fashioned boiler room. Dusty and unused. The church had probably sprung for central heating a decade ago.

“Oh, shit.”

Klaus slapped Luther’s arm. “Don’t curse in church.” His voice didn’t carry any of the venom it was supposed to.

The body was pale in the flashlight rays. There was no blood. Just a stark, horrible face locked in an expression of terror.

“I can’t believe how bad that smells_,_” Luther groaned.

_“Hungry…”_

Klaus shoved around him, taking the phone with him as he hopped down the rest of the stairs. “I’m here,” he said. The cement walls absorbed his voice, and the big metal cylinders reflected the light unevenly. “I found you.”

The ghost stepped out from behind some box contraption, not quite catching the light. “_Found…me…”_

“Yeah.” Klaus glanced down at the body. It was worse up close. The skin was discolored and the eyes bulged. A limp hand hung manacled to a low metal bar, wet skin bunching up around the metal. “What happened to you?”

“_Eyes. So many…eyes.” _The ghost’s were wide. He stepped closer and the chill increased. “_Asked me…about the children.”_

Klaus took an unsteady step back. “What children?” He asked, though he already knew. The ghost raised a finger, pointing up toward...

Klaus turned around, holding the light up. Toward Dave. He and Diego had caught up, joining Luther halfway up the stairs with their faces twisted against the smell.

“What did they ask you?” Klaus demanded, swinging the light back around. The ghost was too close for comfort, his relatively _alive_ appearance sinking into the decay of his body. Klaus watched his eyes pop out in slow motion. The ray of light started to shake.

_“Many questions…no answers…no food…”_

“What questions?” The other ghosts had come down here with them, drawn by this interaction. Klaus was in control, though. He ignored the shifting shapes and hoarse whispers. “What did they look like? Man or woman?”

“_Many eyes…”_

So there was more than one assassin? Klaus considered kicking the body, just to maybe offend the ghost or something. But it probably didn’t work that way, and who knew what mess would come out of the corpse if he broke the skin. “You’re not gonna tell me anything, are you? So what the fuck do you _want?”_

That question spurred the ghost into motion. It lunged forward, hands grasping the lapels of Klaus’ coat. He gasped in shock, the repulsive stench shooting up into his sinuses.

“_EYES! EYES! SHE HAD SO MANY EYES!”_

“Ack!” Klaus said, stumbling back. The ghosts could pass through him, and make him cold, and choke out little girls, but _grab_ him? Lift him off the ground?

There was a burst of commotion behind him, but it seemed impossibly far away.

_“SHE LEFT ME TO STARVE, BECAUSE I COULDN’T ANSWER HER!” _The ghost screamed in his face. Instead of hot breath, a sub-zero mist numbed Klaus’ face. “_AND. NOW. I’M. HUNGRY.”_

His mouth dropped open, and then kept opening, past what any human body could sustain. Klaus felt the power within him, the power to dispel like he had accidentally done at the séance, but he was too terrified to reach out and utilize it. There was no telling what was about to happen, but it was going to _hurt, _and that was all he could think about.

The freak show bearing down on him flickered once, and he saw something like confusion in the ghost's eyes. Then it happened again, and the world forgot to flicker back on. It was all black. Blacker than pitch. Something told him it wasn't just that the phone had died, either.

In the same instant, it was like all the sound sucked into the walls was shot back out. A massive electricity charge set loose. His body reacted first, hair standing on end, heart stuttering. The pressure flooded into his inner ear, and then, just as quick, everything was calm. The massive crescendo of sound halted in the air.

“Klaus.”

He turned around, expecting to see nothing but finding the other person perfectly visible. “Denise?”

“Nice to see you again,” she said somberly. She was in her normal form, instead of all messed up and bloody. Her long hair sort of floated around, and the white nightgown covered her feet so he wasn’t sure if she was floating or standing. He wasn’t sure if _he_ was floating or standing. “Are you okay?”

He looked down at himself. All in one piece, but that didn't mean much. “Where are we?”

“You don’t know?”

He shrugged a shrug that hopefully conveyed the general sense of _does it look like I fucking know?_

Denise raised her eyebrows. “This is where I always am. I didn’t know you could come here.”

“I’m _dead?”_

“No,” she said with certainty. He breathed a sigh of relief. “You’ve never done this before?”

“Done what? Where did the other guy go?”

“He’s gone, for now,” she said. “He’s one of the angry ones. I’ve been trying to avoid them.”

“What…I…” He was very familiar with angry. _That_ was another level completely. “I don’t understand.”

“I can see that,” she smiled in a pitying sort of way. “I wish I could help, but you’re the expert here.”

“I wish,” he hummed, turning on the spot. Everything was black. There was no sense of distance or space. “Are we alone?”

“Again, I don’t know.” She watched him try to figure it out for a minute. “You need to get back, though. Your friends are worried.”

He had no clue where he was, much less how to get _back_. “You’re not gonna try to kill me, too, are you?”

She smiled again. “No. And I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

“Tell _him_ that.”

“You shouldn’t have hesitated,” she said, no longer smiling. Her voice turned scolding. “It makes them think they can get the best of you.”

Klaus narrowed his eyes at her, ignoring the strange itch in his fingertips. “What do you know?”

“I don’t know who killed that man. But I know he’s not the only one angry with you.”

Klaus tried to walk closer to her, but though his feet moved she stayed the same distance away. “The ghost from the séance? The one who attacked Jasika?”

“Maybe. It’s more a…feeling. And it’s directed at you, not that girl.”

“You’ve been watching me,” Klaus realized. “I thought you moved on.”

Her face twitched, in sadness or regret. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“What’s keepin’ ya?” He waved his hands around, going to elaborate on how sucky this place was. But the movement gave him a glimpse of his fingers, and the words dried up. His hands were wrong. The tips of his fingers were faded, just barely visible in the not-light. And it was like his veins were trying to burst through his skin, all the way up his arms. “What the - ?”

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Denise said, eyes wide as she noticed what was happening. "Leave, Klaus."

“I – I don’t know how!” There was tingling in his legs, too. And the air was suddenly thick. Space was closing in on him. Even Denise looked warped, stretched. “Put me back!”

“You brought yourself here.” Her voice was unchanged, clear and calming. But he didn’t really feel like calming down. “Just breathe.”

“I c-can’t.” He was being strangled slowly by the air. It was poison.

Denise walked closer, and this time actually _got_ closer. “Maybe you just need a – “ she pressed her fingers to his chest, at the top of his collarbone. “_Push.”_

The sound finally hit. Like someone had shoved headphones over his ears and pressed play on Slipknot’s greatest hits. And the light was so incredibly bright he didn’t dare open his eyes. He heard his name, amid the cacophony. It was one sound to focus on, to make sense of. The rest sorted itself out. The thrashing vocals of Slipknot were actually just his brothers’ voices. The thrumming bassline was his own breathing. The sick guitar solo was a very, very faint rush of air through a vent.

“Klaus!_ Hey!”_

He forced his eyes open, and after the first sting he realized it wasn’t so bright. Luther’s phone had skittered off somewhere, throwing it’s light up at the faces surrounding him. The stench of the body registered later than everything else, but it was just as upsetting.

The first breath he took hurt so bad he thought his lungs had popped like balloons. The second caught on something.

The forms crowded around him leaned away as he flipped himself over like a dying fish, slapping one hand down to brace himself as he retched once, twice, three times. What came up out of his stomach burned like vomit, but it wasn't. It oozed down and dissipated, a cloud of black smoke. The reality of this was so disturbing he retched again, but it was over. There was nothing left.

Someone helped him up, dragging him to his feet and holding him at arm’s length to be examined. Luther's face swam into focus, eyes wild with fear. He said something Klaus didn't understand.

“Get me out of here,” he begged, a stranger to his own voice. It was low and rasping, an octave too low for his teenage body. Luther nodded grimly and picked him up.

It should have been emasculating, being carried bridal-style out of a church by his giant brother. But walking would have been exhausting, and he needed to be in the sun as soon as possible. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing, each jostle of Luther’s footsteps making his head throb.

There were some halting stops as they went through doors and checked corners before turning, but eventually they made it outside.

“Look alive,” Luther said, setting Klaus on his feet. His knees weren’t having it, so Luther had to support him as they hurried away from the church and crossed the street. It was so much louder. He thought he could hear every single footstep of the passerby that gave them a huge berth, and every car that accelerated past the light. It hurt to keep his eyes open, but he managed.

At the first bench they passed, Luther forced him to sit. The wood was like knives against his back, but it was already getting better. The fresh air was easier to breathe.

“Klaus,” Diego said, crouching in front of him. It was strict. _Start talking or I’m gonna beat the shit out of you._

Klaus nodded his understanding, taking a few difficult breaths to steady himself. The weak sunlight was very warm, by comparison, but instead of making him feel better it just drew attention to how bitterly cold he was. Worse than anything he'd ever felt.

“His lips are blue,” Dave said. He'd been hovering at the edges of Klaus' attention, bouncing his weight anxiously. Now that Klaus had looked at him, it was impossible to stop. "Shouldn't we get him to a hospital?"

_I was dead,_ he thought, looking at that face. _I was dead. And probably very close to staying that way._

Dave shrugged out of Luther's jacket and draped it over Klaus' shoulders like a blanket. Klaus dug his fingers (thankfully normal again) into the leather.

“Klaus?” Luther asked. It was careful. _This weird shit has always knocked you around. Is this time any different?_

“No,” Klaus answered. It was different, but it also wasn’t. As sure as he was that he had been dead, he was equally certain he was fine now. Or he would be. “No.”

Dave stepped back, face set in hard disagreement. He crossed his arms and turned to the side, one foot tapping. He was...mad? Or maybe he couldn’t stand to look.

Self-conscious, Klaus wiped at his face with one trembling hand. His eyes were watering. “How much did you see?” He asked, voice almost back to normal. It was hard to force his eyes back to his brothers.

“Just you,” Luther told him. “Yelling at the ghost. Then you kinda…seized up. Like something was lifting you off the ground.”

“You didn’t see him?” Klaus whispered. They shook their heads. Dave glared off toward the church. “He touched me.”

“We didn’t see anything,” Luther repeated. “Just you, hanging there. And then you did something with your arms, and…”

“It was like the shadows reached out and took you.” Diego swallowed hard. “Then you were gone.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced up at Luther, who shrugged. “Five seconds, maybe?”

Klaus shook his head, trying to reconcile all of it. “I went…somewhere else. Saw Denise.”

“Who?”

“The dentist."

Diego made a face. “Where did you go?” he asked in a tense voice. Klaus shrugged, unable to meet their eyes. “Did the old man say anything?”

Dave turned around, giving Diego a disbelieving look. Maybe he still had hospitals on the mind. Klaus shuddered.

“He was murdered. By a woman, I - I think he said. She asked him about 'the children'." It was already getting hard to remember. He expelled the knowledge, hoping his siblings could take it make sense of it. “They know about Dave and Jasika.”

They were Commission. There was no way around it. The killer wanted to know about their newest additions, who were of course the change in the timeline Five had warned them about. The change _he_ had caused.

Vanya was right. Something was coming for them. He thought about Five’s cryptic note, and the part he hadn’t been able to figure out. _7 – the roof._

It may as well have just said _good luck, fuckers._ Klaus appreciated gallows humor a lot more than false hope.

*********

The biggest hurdle for accepting his abilities had been overcoming the childhood fear that the ghosts would kill him. Drugs, he remembered fondly. Drugs had been great. Drugs. Drogas. Drogues. In any language, they were great.

Vanya showed up right after they got back to his apartment. Someone else must have filled her in, because she went straight to Klaus and started fawning over him.

“You look terrible,” she said, taking his face and running her thumbs over the skin beneath his eyes. Her hands were freezing, and he flinched away, pulling Ben’s quilt tighter around his body. Any air that got inside his makeshift shield cut straight through the bone. “What happened?”

He couldn’t give her a better answer than he gave Diego, so he kept his mouth shut. Jasika, brought in Vanya's tow, drifted to where Dave sat on the floor by the window. The ghost was with her, shadowy and indistinct.

“Did you eat?” Vanya asked.

“He can't keep anything down,” Luther said. He was leaned up next to Klaus on the sofa, one arm over his shoulders. Klaus only allowed it because the heavy weight over his back grounded him in reality.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. Vanya didn’t look at all convinced. “It’s not worse than the mausoleum.”

At least that was the truth. Klaus had been scared, maybe even dead in that church, but the fear he felt as a child in that graveyard was something he would never fully recover from. A horror movie would scare an adult, but it would leave lasting scars on the psyche of a ten-year-old.

"It's Tuesday," he said. Vanya frowned.

Tuesdays and Fridays were when they always met to practice controlling their powers, but he wasn’t sure he could power a lightbulb in his current state, much less get any impressions. He'd had on Luther's jacket for the better part of an hour without getting so much as a psychic glimpse of him _or _Dave.

And he wasn’t actively holding the veil up, which meant the ghost attached to Jasika was choosing to stay on the other side. The in-between place. It worried him.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” he said with newfound determination. If Denise was right, and that ghost wanted to hurt him, he needed to have a stronger grasp on his powers. And what better way was there than to jump off the cliff headfirst?

Vanya seemed to understand what he meant. Their plan. “Tomorrow,” she nodded.

“Start what?”

That was Luther, though it looked like Dave had opened his mouth to ask the exact same thing. Klaus forced himself deeper into the blankets, turning sideways to rest his head on the arm of the couch. Vanya gave some sort of answer, but his attention span had already swirled away.

It wasn’t sleep – there was no way that would be happening any time soon. The darkness underneath his eyelids was unsettling. He kept seeing that face, eyes popping, jaw stretched.

He was tired, though. So tired.

Afternoon turned to evening. Klaus didn't move. He heard Diego’s voice, then Allison’s. Someone ran their fingers through his hair in a comforting gesture. He would guess Vanya. Maybe even Allison, though if she was so concerned he must look a lot worse than he feared.

"Take the dog," Diego said before they left. The next time the door shut, the vague whining sound went with it. Looked like Klaus had finally spooked the un-spookable Kibbles.

Someone touched his head again. He didn't open his eyes. Being as still as possible seemed like the best way to heal. Like something deep inside of him had to be rebuilt second by shivering second.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Dave asked at some point.

Ben didn’t answer right away. He was probably overwhelmed. Diego had dumped a quick recap on him the second he got home from school, then ran off to go be Eudora’s savior. Al, Luther, and Vanya were out doing some journal tests on Jasika. Klaus didn’t really understand why Dave hadn’t gone with them, but there was only so much conversation he could keep up with with his ears muffled by fabric and everyone whispering so as not to wake him.

“He scares the shit out of me, sometimes,” Ben said quietly. He sounded close. “Sometimes I think if Dad hadn’t treated him so bad, he wouldn’t be so scared of his own power."

"What do you mean?" Dave asked warily.

"In that journal..." Ben sighed. "Dad said the ghosts started out as imaginary friends. I’m sure his first reaction was to try to beat the imagination out of him, but then he heard Klaus talking to Vanya about one of them. And Dad had heard the name in the news. A homicide victim.

"When Klaus was nine, they started going out together. Late at night.”

_Wait, _am _I dreaming?_ Klaus second-guessed. The lull of Ben’s voice didn’t feel real. 

“Whenever they went on one of those trips, Klaus would come to breakfast looking like hell. Actual, real Hell. He would jump at any noise, and on the nights he stayed at the house he woke up screaming. I’ve never heard anything like it. We found out later that Dad was taking him to a cemetery just outside of the city. He locked Klaus inside and left him overnight.”

Dave inhaled sharply, and Ben chuckled.

“Yeah. Imagine what that would do to a normal kid. And Klaus…”

Klaus waited intently, half curious and half angry. It seemed really odd that everyone was treating Dave so casually. Klaus had overheard Allison talking with him about Shakespeare the day before. And he'd told Vanya he hoped he'd be around to see one of her concerts. And now Ben was pouring his heart out to the guy. Not even _Klaus_ fit in so well with his family.

"Powers aside, he’s always been sensitive,” Ben said. “He changed, after those visits. Just…became sort of an asshole. Maybe he hated our pity more than he needed support. By thirteen, he pretty much coasted on a constant stream of weed and stolen pills. And none of us did anything about it.

“By fifteen, though, we all kind of turned into assholes. Then, one day, like magic, everyone was best friends again. They acted…older. Kinder. I was really happy about it, actually, because having each other’s backs…well, in that house it was a lot better than going it alone.”

Dave said something in a whisper that Klaus didn’t catch.

“Yeah,” Ben answered darkly. “But Dad called it ‘combat training’.”

There was a conspicuous silence. Klaus was a captive audience, too deep in his trance to snap out of it.

“Anyway, Klaus was still his same old self, mostly. But I noticed he started talking to me a lot more and everyone else a lot less. On missions, he’d try to keep everyone safe to the point of recklessness. It was just _weird. _The same Klaus, but...not.

"I know now that all of it was because my siblings were actually thirty-year-olds, thrown into the past. And in that future, I had been dead since we were teenagers. But I didn’t know that back then. And I didn’t get why Klaus stopped with the weed and stuff. Why he sat for hours doing nothing, just staring off into space. But now I get it. One childhood in that place was bad enough…twice is a lot to ask of anybody. Especially of Klaus."

Dave must have a good listening face, Klaus thought, for Ben to be talking this much.

“His powers, the things he sees, still scare him. But he keeps pushing himself, ever since we moved out last year. He’s always practicing things, following ghosts on errands. And there’s _always_ something new. He keeps…finding more. And it hurts him every time.”

Klaus thought he must be dozing off, because Ben’s words weren’t making any sense. His powers didn’t…oh.

No, Ben was spot on. It was the PTSD he was referring to, though he didn’t know it. Every time Klaus was triggered by the smell of something, or the sound of something, Ben had been assuming it was ghost related? That was funny.

"Like this?” Dave asked. Klaus pictured him gesturing at his lifeless form.

“…No,” Ben decided. “Not for a while, anyway.”

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Dave whispered. “I really thought I’d just gone ‘round the bend.”

Klaus’ skin prickled in the next silence, like two pairs of eyes were staring at him. Something shifted.

“You going to bed?” Dave asked, with an odd note of panic.

“No. He wouldn’t like waking up alone. I’m just getting more blankets.”

His footsteps receded. Klaus felt himself slipping off for real, bolstered by the knowledge Ben wouldn’t leave him. The flap of quilt over his ankle twitched a little, like someone was pulling it to cover his foot. It helped; the last bit of cold air seeping into his enclosure was cut off. 

“_Andy Griffith Show_,” Dave murmured into the quiet, to nobody. The answer to a forgotten question. “Don Knotts put me and my pa in stitches.”

_But you’re such a Wally Cleaver,_ was the last petulant thought Klaus had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to those who aren't from the American South - Leave it to Beaver and The Andy Griffith Show were both huge sitcoms from the 60's. Me and my dad used to watch them and, yes, Don Knotts had us in stitches.


End file.
